Guardian of the Snake
by Earthpaw94
Summary: The Golden Trio is back at Hogwarts for their "8th" Year. The War continues to rage on in the Wizarding World, but Voldemort seems oddly...quiet. With a new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher who speaks of old, dark magic, could there be more to this war than it seems? And why are Malfoy's eyes suddenly...green? "Who's side are you on?" "Whatever side is worthy of having me..."
1. Prologue: Le Jour Après La Fin Du Monde

**A/N: First fanfic. It's really long. Seriously. I have a thing for long fanfics. This is the Prologue and it'll be extremely hard to understand right now, but later on it'll play a big role. Read it now or not, it doesn't quite matter.**

**I'm a DRAMIONE fan, by the way, so this fanfic WILL be Dramione, but don't expect it to be immediately. The events tend to go kind of slow, be ready for that.**

**This happens after DH, but instead of Voldemort telling Harry to meet him in the Forbidden Forest, he simply calls his Death Eaters back and everything after that never happens. Also, the following characters are NOT dead in the beginning of this fic : Severus Snape, Fred Weasley, Bellatrix Lestrange, Sirius Black, Remus Lupin, Alastor Moody, Voldemort, Albus Dumbledore, Nagini and Hedwig.**

**Other than that, read and enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: Harry Potter is owned by JK Rowling, the song "Le Jour Après la Fin du Monde" is by Corneille, all I own is the (ADDED) plot.**

**[EDIT]: Changed my French a bit. I just realized a little error. Not that it would change much in English, but in French...big difference.**

_**Le Jour Après la Fin du Monde**_

**...***...**

Prologue

"Où seras-tu le jour après la fin du monde?

Le jour après la fin du monde,

La fin du monde comme on nous l'a appris,

Hè,

M'aimeras-tu le jour après la fin du monde?

Le jour après la fin du monde, L

e matin d'une toute nouvelle vie,

Hè.

M'aimeras tu?"

-_Le Jour Après La Fin Du Monde_, _**Corneille**_

_"M'aimeras tuuuuu?..."_ he sang, tapping the melody on his desk. He stared out the window, eyes flashing to the streets...cars honking...people talking...his office door opening.

_Office door opening?_ He turned his head ever so slightly toward the door. His music continued to play, switching to _Des pères, des hommes et des frères_. He could very easily turn the stereo off without moving a finger in its direction, but seeing the face of someone who would freak out if he did so, well...he decided to leave it on.

_"Monsieur Desbranches?"_ spoke his assistant. An older man, probably in his sixty's and still working. He was a little scrawny, compared to the younger, twenty-year-old man sitting in his study. The older thought he was working for a writer, currently on writer's block (even though there was no such thing). He was correct, in a sense, but he wasn't completely knowledgeable with what he did. There were still things he definitely wouldn't understand, and if he knew, well...everyone would know.

He seemed quite happy. Cheerful. A little...too cheerful. Dreamy even.

_"Oui...?"_ asked Desbranches, slowly, looking and sounding both concerned and confused, but if someone were paying very close attention, they'd note that he was neither of these things. He picked up his pen and started twirling it in his fingers. He did this a lot, especially when things were on his mind. Troublesome things. He told this to a close relative of his, and they had a silent agreement to perhaps make a secret, silent language, this movement being one of them. It could mean something along the lines of "Trouble", "You're scaring me" and "I know what you're thinking of doing. It's not a good idea."

He hasn't seen that relative in two years. Two. Long. Years.

_"Il y a quelqu'un ici qui veut vous parler," _spoke Agnès. Desbranches continued his pen twirling.

_"Err...d'accord, laissez-lui,"_ replied Desbranches. Agnès opened the door completely and there stood a hooded figure, the cloak over his face in such a way that you couldn't see his face through the shadow. Desbranches smirked.

_"C'est qui, ça?"_

_"Il m'a dit qu'il s'appelle, Simon Leroy."_ Desbranches stopped his pen twirling, smirk still on his lips. He knew this person.

_"Bien. Laissez-nous, Agnès. J'ai besoin de lui parler...seul,"_ he spoke the last two words sternly, making sure Agnès heard them.

It seemed he did, as he bowed and left the room. Leroy continued to stand. Desbranches motioned for the seat in front of his desk. As Leroy sat down, Desbranches put his pen down.

_"J'ai pensé que tu es mort, Desbranches. Qu'est-ce que c'est passé?"_ Leroy spoke nonchalantly. There was something odd about his accent.

"Come now, Leroy. Put the hood down. I don't appreciate you using the Imperius Curse on my co-workers." Leroy slowly put his hood down to reveal his face. Desbranches narrowed his eyes.

"Why are you here?"

"I see you have changed your name again."

"I see you have resorted to changing yours as well."

"I learned from the best."

"You never answered my question."

"You never answered mine."

Desbranches looked at him pointedly. Then he smirked. "Martin. Martin Desbranches. I see you have chosen the name 'Simon Leroy.' Couldn't hold off your arrogant self while choosing it, could you? 'Leroy'? 'Le Roi'? The King?"

"Of course not." His face turned grave. "I didn't change that in the war."

Desbranches straightened. "Answer my question. Why are you here?"

"You will answer _mine_ first. What happened to you? After that...incident, I – everyone – thought you were dead."

Desbranches stared at him for a minute. It was like a silent staring contest, neither one feeling the need to let their guard down, eyelids droop, or the other will pounce, ready to destroy whatever pieces of themselves either one had left. They didn't show it, but they were broken men. Shattered during a war, one that was still going on in their world.

Leroy spoke again. "I thought you were fearless. I guess everything I knew about you was wrong."

"I did die," Desbranches growled quietly. A little too quickly too, he noted, internally cursing himself. It definitely sounded much better in his head. Say something else... "That alter-ego of mine died. I simply resurrected." _Good. Fine. Neutralize the situation. You got yourself into that, Desbranches, all you were able to do was a quick save._

"Very funny. That's not possible."

"Of course it is. I told you. I wrote it down."

"Sure you did. Either that..." Leroy paused, debating how to speak his answer. "Or you _faked_ your death. That's possible, isn't it, Desbranches?"

Desbranches narrowed his eyes. "If that's why you came, you can jump out my window. Be my guest." He gestured with his hands, as if presenting a very interesting project he'd been working on, toward his one and only window. The younger man waved it off, annoyed.

"I didn't come to fake my death."

"Then why did you?" Desbranches smirked, leaning toward Leroy. He knew he had him. Leroy, he knew, was quick, witty and clever, especially when it came to verbal sparring (years and years of practice on his part) but he learned much of this from Desbranches himself.

This wasn't the best either of them had done, but Leroy was backed into a corner at this point...that is, unless he said he didn't want to answer, then Desbranches would—

_Focus, Desbranches. Focus..._

Leroy's gaze didn't falter, but Desbranches knew he didn't know how to answer. The only way to come out was to be blunt, and that was exactly how it came out. "I need your help."

Desbranches gasped with mock surprise. "The Simon Leroy is asking for help? And I thought you were a king."

"I don't ask for help on a daily basis, Desbranches, you know that." Leroy took a deep breath. "My family. I need them to be safe. And then there's...I need you to...teach me a few things. A few of your tricks, the ones you used in the war. The ones that...made you fearless in the war. The ones that made you brave."

Desbranches tapped his fingers on the table. It was a lot to take in. "Thing is," he began again, after a few seconds, "that's quite a lot to be asking for. Your family's safety – that's no problem." He paused. "But you wanted something else too, didn't you?"

Leroy didn't say anything for a while. Desbranches was patient. He knew he'd tell him. And he did.

"Yes."

**A/N:** Translations right here:

["Will you love me...?"]

["Mr. Desbranches?" (of the branches)

"Yes, Agnès?"

"There is someone here who wishes to speak with you."

"Err...okay, let him in."]

["Who's that?"

"He told me his name is 'Simon Leroy'." (the king)

"Fine. Leave us, Agnès, I need to speak to him...alone."]

["I thought you were dead, Desbranches. What happened?"]

The **1st** Chapter is called "_Astronaut_" (by Simple Plan) music quote is :

_"Cause tonight I'm feeling like an astronaut, _

_Sending SOS from this tiny box, _

_And I, _

_Lost all signal when I lifted up, _

_Now I'm stuck out here and the world forgot..."_


	2. Chapter 1: Astronaut

**A/N: Here's the first chapter! Oh, by the way : I introduce MADE UP MAGIC. As in, some of the magic in this story isn't canon, or doesn't seem possible. I am aware of this. But I also have an explanation for each one (I'm not telling you what it is though. Not yet.)**

**There will also be slight references to _Jade Empire (Bioware), Knights of the Old Republic I and II (Bioware) _and_ Prince of Egypt (Dreamworks)_. Just a little heads up.**

**Disclaimer: Harry Potter is owned by JK Rowling, the song "Astronaut" is by Simple Plan, all I own is the (ADDED) plot.**

_**Astronaut**_

**...***...**

Chapter 1

"_Cause tonight I'm feeling like an astronaut, _

_Sending SOS from this tiny box, _

_And I, _

_Lost all signal when I lifted up, _

_Now I'm stuck out here and the world forgot..."_

_-Astronaut, **Simple** **Plan**_

He was still out there. He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. He was quiet. After the Battle of Hogwarts, he left without a trace. Some say he was gone. But Harry Potter knew better.

No one spoke of it. The Golden Trio, Harry and his best friends, Hermione Granger and Ron Weasley walked into their compartment, laughing at a joke Ron made. Ginny Weasley followed suit, sitting over beside Harry. Harry put his arm around her, and Hermione and Ron sat on the other side.

After everything that happened, Hermione and Ron both agreed they should just be friends. Hermione still had a thing for him, and she knew it, but she felt it best if they let it go.

Professor Dumbledore made changes the previous year, and found all the previous Seventh Years, because of the circumstances, were unable to finish their NEWTs. Therefore, he allowed them to come back and redo their previous year. It required a lot, including making all the common rooms larger. The Eighth Years were also to share class with the Seventh Years, which made the classes much bigger. That would also mean that the Seventh and Eighth Years wouldn't always be having their classes with their house, as well as another house. In fact, they decided to mix it all together, meaning Harry, Ron, Hermione and Ginny wouldn't all be sharing the same classes.

"So," started Ron, "Any thoughts on what you guys will be doing after this year?"

"I'm thinking about being an Auror," stated Harry. "They offered me a spot already, so after school I'll probably go and do the training." He sounded a little grim, and they all knew why. "You?"

"Maybe the same. I dunno. They offered me a spot too, but...err...I mean, first I need to get into Potions, then—"

He was cut off when they heard a noise come from outside their compartment. It sounded more like someone bumped into someone else, and as they listened, they knew their suspicions were correct.

"I'm going to check it out," stated Harry, standing and going over to open the door. Just as he did, he saw a bunch of Slytherins – all Eighth Years – advancing on a girl, seemingly about the same age, but smaller. _Much_ smaller.

"Leave me alone!" she screamed, backing up a little. As they came closer in view, Harry was able to pick out exactly who the Slytherins were. There was Theodore Nott, Gregory Goyle, as well as Pansy Parkinson, all ganging up on the one girl. Parkinson was laughing her ass off as she watched Nott and Goyle.

"Hey look! Didn't think they'd allow anymore new _Mudbloods_ in Hogwarts!" Nott.

"Ah ha!" Goyle.

Harry decided now would be a good time to jump in. "Hello Nott, Goyle. Parkinson." They all glared for a minute. It took Harry a while to notice something. "You're missing someone."

"Malfoy? We don't hang around him anymore, _Potter_." stated Nott, spitting out the word "Potter" as he said it. Harry ignored that. He simply sounded calm.

"Well, why not?"

"Bad influence. Things got...complicated." Harry regarded them oddly for a moment. _Isn't Malfoy the leader of this lot? _He quickly shook it off and got down to what he came out for.

"Why don't you leave her alone. Clearly she doesn't want you three around."

"How 'bout you mind your own—" he was cut off when someone roughly pushed past everyone down the hall, glancing every so often into the compartments, and finally opening one up and going inside. Harry was startled for a moment, but he knew exactly who the blond was. Draco Malfoy.

Goyle raised his eyebrows and gestured to Parkinson which way Malfoy went. Nott smirked in his direction, then turned over to Harry. "Well, mate, good seeing you," he spoke with heavy sarcasm. "Have fun with your new _friend_." They all began walking down the hall and going into the compartment that Malfoy seated in.

Harry turned to the girl, seeing the Ravenclaw crest on her robes. "Thanks," she said. She seemed to be breathing hard. She squinted, then for an instant, it looked like something dawned on her. "You're Harry Potter!" Raising her hand, she stated, "Brenna Foster. I'm a year younger than you. Seventh Year. Nice to meet you!"

Harry took Brenna's outstretched hand and shook it as he looked her over. She was already in her robes, as well she had black hair and silver eyes. Harry swore he saw a tinge of purple in them, but it went away so fast he barely got the chance to see if it were always there.

"Can I sit with you and your friends? I don't want to run into...them again." She shuddered.

Harry nodded. "Of course."

They went into the compartment and were greeted by many questions. Harry jumped back to his seat beside Ginny. Brenna jumped over right next to Ron and smiled largely.

Ron looked at her and gave her a wide-eyed expression. "Harry, who is she?"

"Brenna Foster, nice to meet you," she said, stretching her hand out to Ron. Ron took it.

"Ron Weasley."

Hermione frowned slightly, but didn't say anything.

"Goyle, Nott and Parkinson were...well, you know what I mean. I let her stay here before they came back."

"Back from where?" demanded Ron.

"I...don't really know exactly..."

"They went to go...'_speak_'...with Malfoy." Brenna greatly emphasized 'speak'.

"Right," replied Ron. "He really needs a talking to anyway." Brenna smirked slightly. Harry didn't press on it too much though, and the group continued to talk of absolute rubbish.

**...***...! #$%^&*()_+...***...**

The Hogwarts Express came to a halt, and the students began to leave the train. The group saw Hagrid leading the First Years down to the boats, while the others were brought to the carriages. About everyone could see the Thestrals by now, so it wasn't much of a mystery as to what was pulling the carriages.

Hermione walked off the train and was just about to follow the other four when she heard what sounded like bickering from somewhere behind her. But it wasn't...only one side was talking.

"Can't believe I hung out with you!"

"Can't believe I actually _liked_ you!"

"Get lost, Malfoy! You too, Zabini!" There were harsh laughs afterwards, all being ignored. Hermione tried desperately to look through the crowd and see what was going on, and after a while of searching, she finally saw it.

Malfoy, as well as Zabini, seemed to be speed walking away from Parkinson, Goyle and Nott, rubbing his left arm. Zabini kept looking back behind him.

"You just going to run away? _Ha_! Good luck with that! We'll find you, mates! We will!" That was Nott. What was going on?

"You coming?" demanded Ron, looking back at her. He didn't seem to have noticed the bullying going on behind them.

Hermione was debating whether or not she wanted to ask if Zabini was okay. Or even Malfoy. It was that darn kind and "equality for everyone" side to her that made her think these preposterous thoughts. Sensing a bad answer from both boys who spent years considering her as "Mudblood Granger", she thought against it.

She nodded. "Yes, coming."

**...***...! #$%^&*()_+...***...**

All the students settled in the Great Hall after Sorting, and awaited the announcements from Professor Dumbledore. They went by pretty quickly, Hermione noticed. Ron got Head Boy, and he was quite happy about that. Head Girl was that girl they met on the train, Brenna Foster. Hermione couldn't believe she wasn't picked. But she was happy for Ron, and didn't want something like that to change her mood.

He had more to speak about. He raised his hands to make sure he still had everyone's attention. "Because of recent events, I have allowed all of our students who were – or would have been – in their Seventh Year to come and finish their schooling. As well, Professor Slughorn and I have spoken, and he thinks it best if he retired." There was murmuring going on at each of the tables, mostly asking who was going to teach Potions. "Therefore, I have allowed Professor Snape to retake his post as Potions Master." The talking became louder, now asking why she had allowed him to come back. Not even the Golden Trio could exactly piece together why Professor Dumbledore had allowed him to continue being a teacher at Hogwarts.

"I would like to remind students that the Forbidden Forest is strictly prohibited. As well, Third to Sixth Years may go to Hogsmeade during their trip. Seventh and Eighth Years may go whenever they wish." There were a few cheers from many of the Seventh and Eighth Years, but they were quickly hushed. "That is a _privilege_, which may easily be taken from you, if you are unable to finish your studies," he said sternly.

"Oi," whispered Seamus. "And I was hopin'–"

"One more announcement, I would like to welcome, Professor Phoebus Morrigan. Your new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher." A man with neatly combed, dirty blond hair and jet-black robes, stood up from the staff table, a condescending smirk played on his lips. He looked to be in his thirties, but Hermione couldn't deny that he was extremely handsome. Not hot. _Handsome_. She looked around to see many of the girls in the room look dreamily at him, particularly Lavender Brown and Pansy Parkinson. She frowned. It was like Gilderoy Lockhart had come back to Hogwarts with a different name and apparel.

Dumbledore flicked waved his hand and the tables were filled with food.

"Head Boy, Ron? Why didn't you tell us?" asked Harry, demanding.

"I wanted it to be a surprise..."

"So that's why McGonagall wanted to speak to you guys on the train!" spoke Hermione, smiling widely. "Congratulations, Ronald."

"Yeah, thanks. I hope I'm as good as Bill was. I mean..."

Hermione, unconsciously, took a peek over at the Slytherin table. Malfoy was poking at his food, uncomfortably. Zabini shook him, taking him out of his daze. They began talking, Malfoy didn't seem to have much of an expression on him, while Zabini seemed to be trying to cheer him up. She tried reading his expression, but failed.

"...what do you think, Hermione?" Ron's unexpected question brought her back to reality. She nodded her head, pretending to have heard what he said.

"Sounds good," she said, even though she had no idea what they were talking about. Ron seemed to have bought it, as he nodded and looked back at Harry and Ginny, laughing. Hermione frowned, but simply went with it.

**A/N:** The **2nd** Chapter is called _"Savin' Me"_ (by Nickelback) and the song quote is :

_"And say it for me, _  
_Say it to me,_  
_And I'll leave this life behind me, _  
_Say it if it's worth savin' me..."_


	3. Chapter 2: Savin' Me

**A/N: 2nd Chapter! Originally, I was going to call this chapter, "First Day of Term," but it didn't really go with what I was doing for the Chapter names.**

**My honest opinion of how this went, it seems a little...all over the place. I dunno. I added a bit of humour in it (at least my attempt at humour).**

**Definitely longer than the first few. I should say that too.**

**Disclaimer: Harry Potter is owned by JK Rowling, the song _"Savin' Me"_ is by Nickelback. All I own is the (ADDED) plot.**

_**Savin' Me**_

**...***...**

Chapter 2

"_And say it for me, _

_Say it to me,_

_And I'll leave this life behind me, _

_Say it if it's worth savin' me..."_

_-Savin' Me, **Nickelback**_

Hermione slept well, being the first one up in all of Gryffindor house.

She got out of her bed and began to clean herself up, taking a quick shower and getting into her robes. She sat on the couch in the common room, finding Ginny already there, and waited for Harry. Ron wouldn't be coming down – he was in the Heads Common Room with _Brenna_. Hermione shivered. There was something so..._strange_ about her...

Harry came down and Hermione found herself getting up fast enough for the boy to jump a few feet in the air. A few seconds went by. Once he was able to compose himself from the initial shock, Harry laughed.

"I see you had a good sleep," he said. Hermione smiled and nodded. "Hey, have you seen my Invisibility Cloak? I can't find it."

"Have you checked everywhere in your trunk?"

"I dunno. I think I did..."

"Don't worry, Harry," reassured Hermione, putting a hand on his shoulder. "It'll turn up eventually. If I see it, I'll make sure to tell you."

They left the common room to breakfast, which went by quite fast. Hermione couldn't help but look over at the other tables. There was Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw, smiling and talking amongst themselves. It looked peaceful.

As she glanced over at the Slytherins, however, she saw scowling faces, most turning over to the other houses, then either laughing or staring in disgust. She couldn't hear any of their conversations, but she knew they were probably speaking of nasty things, adding an obscurity here and there in most things they said.

There was also a group that didn't look at the other houses at all. They laughed, peeking over at Malfoy. He seemed to be doing a pretty good job at ignoring them. He took a bite of his apple – _green_ apple to be precise – seeming deep in thought. He made quick eye contact with Hermione and she turned away.

**...***...! #$%^&*()_+...***...**

When Harry, Hermione and Ginny got to their DADA class, no one was in. Harry and Ginny sat around the middle of the classroom, Hermione in the desk beside them. The three began to chat about anything that came to their minds.

The classroom soon filled up, Ron and Brenna coming to sit in the desks behind Harry and Ginny. They two were talking amongst themselves. Hermione had to admit, this somewhat annoyed her, but she didn't say anything.

The last person to walk into the classroom was Malfoy, Hermione noticed. He had a blank expression on his face as he sat in the farthest desk from the front, nearest the door beside Zabini. There were a few sniggers and rude comments coming from mostly Slytherins, which made Hermione a little uneasy. She knew she shouldn't be feeling like that, for _him_ of all people. But she was, naturally, a very caring person. No matter who it was, she didn't want harm like _that_ to come to them (unless it were, for example, Bellatrix Lestrange or something. She shuddered at the thought. _Happy thoughts, Hermione. Happy thoughts..._)

"Good morning!" spoke Professor Morrigan, standing at the front of the classroom. When did he get there? wondered Hermione, suspiciously. Half of the class jumped. He simply laughed. "Funny. Seems I have once again, predicted correctly. Nevertheless, you are here to learn!" He took out his wand and twirled it in his fingers. "Now, either you are going to fail this test, or pass. I am serious: Either you get an O or a T." He flicked his wand at each of the windows, shutting them. In between closing each one, he spoke. "This class...is known...as Defence...Against the Dark Arts..." He stopped shutting them, as one final one was left open. "You may think me as crazy as I do this, however, I must say that I am completely, utterly, and extravagantly – insane." There was a great smile plastered on his face. "But this will help, I assure you. Answer my question quickly and efficiently. Do not take out your wands, as it could create a great mess. Now..." He shut the last shutter, and the room was completely dark.

"...let us begin."

The room was quiet. They could hear a short knocking across on each of the desks, making students jump and some scream. And then-

"Mr. Weasley!" Morrigan was leaning over Ron, who had nearly fallen off his seat from the surprise. He had used _Lumos_ and was now shining it straight at Ron. The redhead looked terrified. What didn't seem to help much was the speed that Morrigan was speaking in, and it was almost too difficult to understand him.

"A dark wizard points their wand at you and speaks the incantation, _Stupefy_. What incantation do you use?"

"Err..._Protego_."

"Excellent." The light on the Professor's wand vanished.

There was more rustling in the classroom. By now there were a couple of laughs. Hermione could tell most of the Slytherins were finding this amusing.

"Mr. Zabini! You have a secret, yes?" The wand flashed in Zabini's eyes and the boy began to squint.

"Um..."

"A truly _dark_ secret that you don't want _anyone_ to find out?"

"Err..." He seemed extremely uncomfortable. His eyes were shifting anywhere but at the Professor. _Maybe he _does_ have a secret, _thought Hermione.

"There must be. You're afraid, now that I've mentioned that you have one. Someone's going to find out!"

Zabini gasped, and it sounded...quite genuine. Hermione resisted the urge to roll her eyes. _How daft can you be? That probably one of the oldest tricks in the book..._

"If you were to hide the secret, what charm would you use?" Zabini hesitated a second too long. "Stunned!" The light flickered off.

"You need to be quick...you need to know...thinking will be lethal in this test..." spoke the Professor's voice in the dark. "Ms. Granger! Do you have what it takes to save Zabini from his impending fate?"

"_Fidelius_!" she said. During his hesitation, she'd been putting much thought into the answer, just in case he went to her with the same question.

"You saved his life! I believe he owes you! Five points taken from Slytherin and given to Gryffindor!" The light flickered off and there were a couple of silent curses and cheers coming from around the room.

"Mr. Finnigan!" Seamus was taken completely off-guard from his sudden appearance. "Someone casts _Incendio_, your spell is...?"

"Uh..."

"Stunned!"

"But-"

"Stunned!" The light turned off. "In real life, Mr. Finnigan, you will not have any time to say 'but' or even... 'uh'." There were a couple laughs from the class, which all died down when he jumped at the next student. "Ms. Patil!" He was pointing it at Padma, Hermione realized. Wonder if he knows there's another one... "Can you save his life?"

"_Aguamenti_?"

"Bravo! As well, he owes you. Minus five from Gryffindor, plus five for Ravenclaw!" Once again the light turned out.

"Mr. Longbottom! My dear boy, a boggart has taken the form of your worst fear!" Neville gasped slightly, probably thinking of his worst fear right then and there. "What spell do you use...?"

"Err..._Riddikulus_."

"Excellent! Well done!" The light flickered off.

This little game lasted a long time, until...

"Ms. Foster! Someone points their wand at you-"

"_Expelliarmus_!" she said, without him even finishing.

"Wow. Never thought of that. Then again, I told you all thinking would be lethal in this test!" He chuckled slightly. "I guess I'll be dead soon. Har, har." The light flickered off, and there was silence for a very long time. A few minutes. When you're in the dark for a couple minutes, no sound or anything, but knowing that there are other people in the room, things can start to become a little awkward. There were now whispers, asking what he was doing, or maybe, what was he going to do.

"Mr. Malfoy!" The blond's eyes shifted upwards, but his head didn't move. "A Dementor comes up to you, the spell of your choice?" Hermione was sure he'd answer correctly. He was the second smartest in the class (behind her, of course). But he simply shook his head, as if refusing to answer. "Stunned." stated Morrigan slowly, a slight note of disappointment in his voice. The light turned off and was suddenly shown at Harry.

"Mr. Potter. Care to save Mr. Malfoy's life?" Morrigan was speaking slowly, every word emphasized. Harry paused a minute, as if debating his answer. There seemed to be a knowing look in Morrigan's eyes as he watched Harry. As if he knew that the boy knew the answer.

"_Expecto Patronum_," he said after a minute.

The Professor continued to speak slowly and carefully. He seemed to be tilting his head ever so slightly as well. Hermione noted he sounded a little like Professor Snape as he said, "Good. Minus five from Slytherin, plus five to Gryffindor. Dismissed."

**...***...! #$%^&*()_+...***...**

"Bloody Hell! What kind of a class was that?" demanded Ron. "We didn't use any magic."

"Yes, but didn't you see? He was just teaching it to us in a different way. Remember when he asked Goyle what he'd do if someone used the Killing curse on him? It's obvious that Morrigan wouldn't actually use the curse on Goyle and see what he would do," spoke Brenna, matter-of-factly.

"Of course," said Hermione, trying to match Brenna's tone. "I mean, it's _Goyle_. It's obvious he didn't know you couldn't block the Killing Curse."

Ginny laughed. "Yeah. Got a few extra points from him for that!" The group jumped in and laughed as well. As they neared the staircases, Ginny, Ron and Harry had to leave Brenna and Hermione. Hermione was a little disappointed to find out that the three had Charms while her and Brenna had Potions. She silently groaned as she followed Brenna to the dungeons.

"Look here! It's Potter's little Mudblood and...wow," said a voice behind the two. Hermione cursed under her breath as they turned to see Nott with Parkinson and Goyle behind him. Hermione noted that it looked rather odd to be seeing the group without Malfoy. Not that she wanted Malfoy to be in their little group, however.

"...another Mudblood," finished Nott.

"Back off, Nott," said Brenna, venom dripping from her voice. Goyle seemed to jump a little, much to Hermione's surprise. Something also flashed in Parkinson's eyes. Nott smirked, but it didn't quite reach his eyes.

"Be seeing you two later," he said, the three pushing past them and walking into the Potions classroom. Hermione and Brenna both turned and followed, scowling in their direction.

Just as they walked in, they found Professor Morrigan speaking with Professor Snape. How did he get here so fast? Hermione shook the disturbing thought away as her and Brenna took their seats. Unconsciously, Hermione caught a few words from their conversation.

"What are you saying?" demanded Snape, a little louder than he needed to be.

"I am saying it would be best if you...reviewed it, Professor." Snape seemed a little wary, as if debating whether or not he thought it a good idea...whatever it was.

"Albus showed you, Severus," continued Morrigan, quieter and faster, but Hermione was still able to hear. "You know why I'm talking about this. Besides, it's only a...beginners thing. It shouldn't be that much of a big deal." Snape looked long and hard at the Professor before speaking again.

"Very well. Now get out of my class." Morrigan showed no emotion as turned on his heel and left the classroom. Hermione noticed he tapped on Malfoy's shoulder and whispered something to him. Draco nodded in response.

Professor Snape stood from his seat at the front and seemed to be staring at nothing. After a minute he finally looked up at the class and spoke. "The Wiggenweld potion." Everyone turned to their books but he put his hand up. "Without looking in your books," he eyed a few students carefully. "Who can tell me the ingredients, as well as the amount you will need to make one?"

No one put their hand up. Hermione would have, but she was too occupied on what the two Professors were speaking of just a few minutes before. How did Professor Morrigan get there so fast? He couldn't have...no, he couldn't, I mean-

"Ms. Granger?" said Snape, interrupting her thoughts. "We all know you would like to answer my question." There were sniggers and giggles coming from many of the Slytherins in the room. Hermione hesitated for a minute. It was the..._Wiggenweld_ potion...wasn't it?

"Right..." she started. "Um...one pint of Horklump juice...two drops of Flobberworm Mucus..." she thought for a second. "Seven Chizpurfle fangs, Billywig sting slime, a sprig of mint...Boom Berry juice, one stewed Mandrake...drops of Honeywater, Sloth brain Mucus..." Many of the students by now were looking around, either wide-eyed at her for remembering it all, or relieved that Professor Snape didn't call on them. "...Moondew drops, Powdered root of...asphodel...Shredded dittany, Wiggentree bark, of course...Moly petals, Salamander blood...ten Lionfish spines, Wolfsbane..." Hermione froze. She forgot something. She knew she forgot something, because there weren't seventeen ingredients to a Wiggenweld potion, there were _eighteen_. "Um..." _Oh Merlin...what did I _possibly_ miss? I got the Lionfish spines, the Moly petals, the Chizpurfle fangs, Billywig sting—_

"Yes?" asked Professor Snape, expectantly.

As if on cue, Neville turned to look at Hermione and tipped his cauldron over (that, for some reason that Hermione wasn't quite able to figure out, was already filled with ingredients) in the process. All eyes turned to him and the rest of the class began to laugh. Even after being one of the many war heroes, he's still pretty clumsy in Potions class.

"Mr. Longbottom," hissed Professor Snape, turning in his direction. "Ten points from Gryffindor. Clean it up. We're waiting." Neville fell to the floor and began picking things up, conjuring a towel as well.

Hermione looked sympathetic at him, but just as she was about to try and remember the ingredient she missed, a crumpled piece of parchment was thrown cleanly on her desk. But it wasn't just any piece of parchment, not a joke or type of bullying method – it was a note. She turned to look at Snape, and to her relief, he had turned and began supervising Neville clean up his cauldron.

She opened the letter and stared wide-eyed.

_I never thought I'd see the day when you missed something as obvious as Unicorn Horn in your potion._

Before Hermione could turn around to see who sent the note, Snape turned back to her and snatched it up from her hand. Hermione cringed as he looked at it, but he threw it back down. She looked at it and the writing was gone. Quickly, without thinking on whether or not the note was correct, she simply said, "And Unicorn Horn, sir."

Snape paused for a minute. "Of course," he spoke. He turned and went back up to the front. Hermione turned around at everyone. Only a few students looked at her, shocked that she remembered all of the ingredients. But none of them showed any evidence that they sent the letter.

**...***...! #$%^&*()_+...***...**

"Bloody Hell, Hermione," began Ron, at lunch. "Someone sent you a note during Potions?"

"Yeah," she replied, poking at her food. "There wasn't a name. It just said they were surprised that I forgot about Unicorn Horn in a Wiggenweld Potion."

"I don't blame you," said Seamus, jumping into the conversation. "He told us we couldn't open our books. How does Snape expect us to memorize all the ingredients to a Wiggenweld potion? That's First Year stuff! You know, the things we forget after the Finals...and have you seen how many ingredients there are? I lost her at 'one'."

"Alright guys, let's not dwell on it too long," said Hermione. She didn't like the fact that she forgot something. And she was reviewing all of her books all summer! How did she forget something as obvious as a _Unicorn Horn_?

"Hi guys," said Harry, coming up to sit beside Ginny. "How'd Potions go?"

"Well," stated Hermione, not looking up. "We did a review on the Wiggenweld potion."

"Great," said Harry, not sounding like he was really listening at all. "Did you make one?"

"Of course," she replied, as if it were obvious. "Why wouldn't we?" She put her fork down. "Though, it was strange. He didn't ask that we gave it in. He told us to keep it. Isn't that, well..."

"_Un-Snape_ like?" asked someone coming up behind them. Brenna sat down beside Ron. Hermione's fists subconsciously began to ball up underneath the table. There was something about her that made Hermione uneasy. "Of course. Don't know why..."

"The Ravenclaw table is over there," said Hermione, bitterly. Brenna pretended not to notice.

"The Ravenclaw table is – I admit – boring. You try wearing blue robes and sitting there. All they talk about is their schoolwork." There was a great amount of attitude in her voice. It was Hermione's turn to pretend she didn't notice.

Harry, seeing the growing tension between the two girls, decided to jump in before things got ugly. "Ginny and I have Divination next. Hermione, I hear you have Arithmancy?"

"Aw, now?" asked Ginny, whimpering. Harry laughed. "Yes, Ginny. Now." He made a small gesture toward Hermione and Brenna, and the redhead understood immediately. "Of course!"

The three stood up and left Ron and Brenna to socialize.

**...***...! #$%^&*()_+...***...**

Ginny and Harry said their goodbyes to Hermione as they walked over to their Divination class. Harry found it rather odd not to have Hermione – as well as Ron – in as many classes as him, but at least Ginny was there.

When they got there, they saw Professor Trelawney, happy to be back at her post. As they went to go sit down, more students were filing in, and Harry noticed that there weren't as many Slytherins in this class, much to his relief.

Just as the class was about to begin, there was a tapping at the entrance to the classroom. Everyone looked over, and Professor Trelawney was the first to speak. "Yes?"

"Good day," sounded a very familiar voice. Harry looked over as Professor Morrigan seemed to be finding his way to the front of the classroom. He looked around at everyone, making small gestures to the many he knew already. Then he turned to Trelawney. "I need to borrow a...an orb. If you don't mind of course..."

Trelawney seemed to look closer at his face, then she jumped back. "Of course! Of course! Take it!" She went over to her table at the front and with a shaky hand, attempted to pick her crystal ball up. Morrigan lunged forward and took the ball before she had a chance to touch it.

"No worries, Professor," he reassured. "Thank you." He quickly left the room.

"What was that about?" whispered Ginny to her boyfriend. Harry shrugged.

"No clue."

**A/N: **Why'd Hermione not raise her hand during that test? She probably knew that no one could see her while the lights were off. Either that, or the author forgot that was one of her favourite things in the world. Ha ha...whoops...

The **3rd** Chapter is called _"__You and Me__"_ (by Lifehouse) and the song quote is :

"_'Cause it's you and me and all of the people with nothing to do, _

_Nothing to lose, _

_And it's you and me and all other people, _

_And I don't know why,_

_I can't keep my eyes off of you..."_


	4. Chapter 3: You And Me

**A/N: I realized when I was writing this Chapter that my library at school has two copies of "The Tales of Beedle the Bard". Unfortunately, I haven't really gotten around to reading it yet, (exams coming up quite rapidly) but I _was_ able to go through a quick scan of...two stories or so.**

**But anyway, here's the 3rd Chapter. It's _super_ short, especially compared to the last one. I've written the 4th Chapter too, so I might update again today. We'll see.**

**I'm not really happy with it, in my opinion it should've been longer. It ended much too quickly for my tastes.**

**Read and enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: Harry Potter is owned by JK Rowling, the song _"You and Me"_ is by Lifehouse. All I own is the (ADDED) plot and the OCs.**

_**You and Me**_

**...***...**

Chapter 3

"_'Cause it's you and me and all of the people with nothing to do, _

_Nothing to lose, _

_And it's you and me and all other people, _

_And I don't know why,_

_I can't keep my eyes off of you..."_

_-__You And Me,__**Lifehouse**_

The next few weeks went by pretty quickly, the Golden Trio realized. Currently, they were sitting in the Great Hall having lunch. Hermione was reading _The Tales of Beedle the Bard_ – again – attempting to be rather intrigued, though finding it slightly boring. Strange though, that she felt the strong need to read it every now and then.

"Blimey, Hermione. You've read that book, what – a hundred times in the last day?"

"Correction, Ronald, I've read it fourteen times in the last three days," she replied, her eyes not wavering from the line she was currently reading.

"But...why?"

"Honestly, I don't know," Hermione shrugged, still not looking up from the book.

Ron turned to Harry, who himself seemed interested in the Marauders Map. Ron was waving his hands in the air, trying to get his best friend's attention and help on the matter. Harry ignored him and stared intently on the map.

"Isn't it strange that I can't seem to find Professor Morrigan on here?" he said, completely off topic, getting death glares from Ron. Ginny leaned over to look at the map.

"I found him – no wait. That's Cormac," she said, a slight hint of disappointment in her voice. "Yeah, that is weird – hang on!" She snatched the map right out of Harry's hand, earning a grunt from her boyfriend. She pointed to a spot on the map. "Look! Malfoy just appeared! He's on the seventh floor..."

"Impossible," said Hermione, quietly putting her book down and leaning over the table to look at the map, which Ginny set on the table. "He couldn't have come out of the Room of Requirement...did he?"

"He just appeared. Isn't that just—"

"Weerred," finished Ron, through whatever he was munching on. Hermione looked at him, slightly disgusted, then turned back to the map.

"Odd. But he can't be up to anything right now. He wouldn't have been allowed back in Hogwarts if he did something like...try and attack Dumbledore again. And the Room of Requirement was destroyed, wasn't it?"

"Maybe. Why do you think he was allowed back?" asked Harry, furrowing his brows. "It's a little strange, him being a Death Eater and all...or ex-Death Eater—"

"_Heeeyyy!_" said a rather jolly voice coming down to sit beside Ron. Hermione looked up at Brenna, and immediately stood up, grabbing her book and bag that she carried to the Great Hall.

"I forgot," she stated, a little bitterly. "Prefect duties. I'll see you guys later." She briskly left the room.

**...***...! #$%^&*()_+...***...**

She didn't actually _have_ Prefect duties at that time, but she felt it better to leave before she began bickering with Brenna. She seemed more like a _Slytherin_ than a _Ravenclaw_. But why would a Slytherin spend more time with _Gryffindors_ rather than her own kind?

Her own kind. Hermione laughed bitterly at her joke. It was a pretty bad one at that. Where had she heard "her own kind" before? Somewhere she didn't want to be reminded of.

Unconsciously, she walked to the library and sat down in one of the tables, taking out her book and reading again. She had just gotten to _Babbity Rabbitty and her Cackling Stump_ when a book from one of the shelves fell down right in front of her. Hermione looked up to see what it was.

She could tell it was charmed, as it began to flip pages up to where someone seemed to have left a bookmark. Curiously, she picked up the white piece of parchment. Written on it was...oddly familiar handwriting. It was the same handwriting she got in Potions.

_Remember me?_

She turned around a couple times, trying to see if there was anyone, but once again, no one came. She looked back down at the parchment and the writing was gone. Instead, it was replaced with:

_Well write something._

She frowned for a second, then rummaged through her bag for a her Self Inking Quill she got from Fred and George Weasley. It was unique because she didn't need to dip it in ink every now and then. She began writing:

_Who are you?_

A few seconds after she wrote it, it began to disappear. It only took a few seconds to get a reply.

_Can't tell you that._

Hermione blinked a couple times. As the ink bled away, she began to write her answer.

_Why not? You know who I am._

There were a few more seconds as she waited for the reply. Hermione guessed it was because he or she was either writing a lot, or they were thinking what they were going to say. Finally, something appeared on the parchment:

_Of course I know who you are, Hermione Granger. But if you found out who I was you wouldn't believe me._

This wasn't Tom Riddle, was it? Perhaps a part of his diary was ripped and dropped in the book. She shivered slightly at the thought. She had heard what happened to Harry and Ginny that year. Harry had told her all about the Chamber of Secrets...and Tom Riddle's diary.

He was practically _obliged_ to tell her. She _was_ petrified by that damn basilisk anyway.

She just had to be sure.

_You're not Tom Riddle, are you?_

The reply came quickly this time.

_No._

Hermione couldn't think of what to say as the ink slowly blinked away. How could it not be Tom Riddle? Maybe it was some sort of enchantment in the parchment. Some note-passing charm or something.

_You sure you don't want to tell me who you are?_

She asked finally. There was a long pause. Her leg began shaking uncontrollably under the table, she took out _The Tales of Beedle the Bard_ and began reading again when she got an answer.

_I'm quite sure._

She heaved a frustrated sigh as she thought of an answer.

_You aren't very co-operative._

And the answer she got:

_I know._

Hermione sighed, rather defeated when the message bled away and a new one came on the paper.

_Keep this. Maybe we'll talk later. And perhaps continue this guessing game of yours._

**A/N: **By the way, I'm aware that I didn't celebrate Hermione's birthday, nor am I going to be celebrating _any_ of their birthdays. This isn't really much of a "birthday" fic, and I haven't celebrated my birthday since I was eight, so I guess I don't really know how they'd celebrate it at their age. Maybe some chocolate frogs here and there, but other than that, I dunno.

The **3rd** Chapter is called _"__Happy Memories__"_ (by Sonny James) and the song quote is :

"_And to me each day gets bluer than the day before, _

_The only way that I can put my achin' heart at ease is living with my, _

_Happy memories, _

_Happy memories..."_


	5. Chapter 4: Happy Memories

**A/N: Fourth chapter! Oh, I forgot _another_ thing, silly me...in this Fanfic, Fawkes was NOT the phoenix that gave Harry and Voldemort a feather for their wands. Let us pretend it was some other phoenix. There's also going to be a slight reference to "The Lion King II: Simba's Pride"_ (Disney)_ somewhere...not yet. Not even...soon. But there will be. I don't know if anyone will be able to pinpoint it, but it'll be there.**

**This chappie is _definitely_ longer than the last, hopefully this compensates for my lack of words for chapter 3.**

**Anyway, read and enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: Harry Potter is owned by JK Rowling, the song _"Happy Memories"_ is by Sonny James. All I own is the (ADDED) plot and the OCs.**

_**Happy Memories**_

**...***...**

Chapter 4

"_And to me each day gets bluer than the day before, _

_The only way that I can put my achin' heart at ease is living with my, _

_Happy memories, _

_Happy memories..."_

_-__Happy Memories,__**Sonny James**_

Hermione, Harry and Ginny made their way into their DADA class the next day. They found Brenna and Ron sitting together again, and Hermione took her same seat, trying to ignore the two.

More students were coming into the classroom, but there wasn't a sign of Professor Morrigan. By the time class was supposed to start, the Professor still wasn't in the room.

_Where is he?_ Hermione turned to Ginny and Harry. They both shrugged, wondering the same thing.

Suddenly, the door to the Professor's office opened and Morrigan looked down at the students. "My, my...you're all early!" There were a few giggles in the class. As Morrigan walked down his steps, he spoke just as loudly as he had, "Or perhaps I am late. Yes, that would make sense, wouldn't it?" He laughed bitterly. "Well then, let's begin, shall we?" He stood up at the front of the class. "Curses! Can someone give me an example of a curse? Give me the name, incantation, and the effect it has on the victim, Mr. Finnigan." He turned to Seamus, who had just turned from his very _interesting_ conversation with Dean.

"Um..."

"Well?"

"The...the Cruciatus curse?" Morrigan was waiting. Seamus seemed a little uncomfortable saying the rest. "The, er...incantation is _Crucio_, and it...causes great pain?"

Morrigan looked at him, satisfied. "Be honest," he spoke to the rest of the class. "Raise your hand if this is one of the first spells you think about when someone mentions the word 'curse'." About half of the class tentatively put their hands up, but Morrigan's face didn't change. He still seemed satisfied. "Can someone give me the name, incantation and effect of the _other_ two Unforgivable curses?"

Hermione's hand shot up in the air and Morrigan pointed to her. "There's the Imperius curse, enabling the user to have total control over the victim. The incantation is _Imperio_. Then there's the Killing curse..." Hermione hesitated. She found she was doing this quite a lot lately.

But she was _Hermione Granger_. A _Gryffindor_. She shouldn't be afraid to answer what she put her hand up for. She wasn't in Fourth Year anymore. She destroyed Horcruxes. She battled Death Eaters. _Clearly_ this should be simpler than she's making it.

Something appeared on the note-passing parchment that she left on the beside her textbook.

_You're a Gryffindor. Aren't you supposed to be BRAVE?_

Whoever was writing the note was obviously in her Defence Against the Dark Arts class. They were either teasing or taunting her. Either way, she sucked in her fear of talking about the curses and continued. "...it gives the victim an instantaneous, painless death, and...the incantation is _A...Avada Kedavra._"

Professor Morrigan spoke quietly. "I do not blame you for feeling rather _uneasy_ speaking of the Killing curse. I do respect your bravery, however." He looked up.

"These curses are known as the _Unforgivable _curses, though, you have probably known that for a while now. There are far more curses than that, however – Mr. Goyle!" He pointed to Goyle, who was having his own conversation with Nott. "Give me another one."

Hermione quickly scribbled on the parchment.

_Shouldn't you be waiting until we're OUTSIDE of class to write to me?_

Goyle thought for a moment. Even for the Slytherins, it was a tough topic, especially so close after the war. "_Fiendfyre_?" Morrigan looked at him gravely.

"Good one," he said after a while. "Very good one...would you happen to know the effect?"

"Er...hard to explain..." Hermione looked behind her to see Malfoy stiffen a little. It was a very touchy subject. She silently cursed Goyle for bringing it up. She was there when Malfoy's friend, Crabbe, died. She wasn't a close friend to them, in fact, they've been enemies from the first time they met, but knowing how her _herself_ would feel if she lost either Ron or Harry, she had to feel at least a _little _sympathetic. Malfoy was writing something in a notebook, probably to get his mind off of what the class was talking about. She looked back at the front.

Morrigan glanced at the rest of the class. "_Fiendfyre_, is indeed, quite a difficult thing to explain, as well as _control._" He paused for a minute. "_Fiendfyre,_ is one of the only things capable of destroying a Horcrux, and we may talk about those later. This curse comes in many forms, from serpents to chimaeras, it unleashes a great, cursed fire that cannot be stopped by a charm, such as _Aguamenti_." He paused once again, as if letting the knowledge soak into the classroom. "But let's not worry about that curse, just now. Another curse? Mr. Longbottom?"

_That's no fun._

Hermione groaned inwardly. Whoever this was, they were being quite annoying. She didn't answer. She planned to do that after class when they were in the library.

Neville looked up, tripping over his words slightly. "F-Full B-Body-Binding curse. Um, makes the victim, er, unable to move, and the incantation is _Petrificus Totalus._"

"Yes!" said the Professor, clearly pleased. "I was rather hoping someone would bring this one up. "Yes, it is a curse, however, not nearly as, for lack of a better word, _bad_ as the other spells. Who knows the three counter-curses for the Full Body-Binding curse? Mr. Malfoy, you back there!" He pointed to Malfoy, who finally looked up from something he was reading.

"_Finite Incantatem,"_ he said, turning back to his book.

"Any others?" asked Morrigan, slight impatience in his voice. Malfoy sighed audibly and spoke without looking up from his book.

"_Finite_ and _Rennervate._"

"Well done! Any more curses you can think of?" He turned to the rest of the class. Hermione looked behind her and saw Malfoy staring at his notebook this time.

"You! A Weasley, correct? How about a curse one of your brothers taught you?" Ginny turned in her seat to look at Ron. The two both had great smiles on their faces. Hermione guessed they were probably thinking the same thing.

"Well, there was that Hair-Loss Curse..." There were laughs coming from all around the classroom, even from Professor Morrigan. He nodded while murmuring "Very good, very good..." Ron continued. "The, uh, incantation is...what was it again, Ginny? _Calvorio?_ Yeah, I'm pretty sure it was _Calvorio_...and obviously, it causes hair loss."

As the Professor's laughs died down, so did the class', however, he still had a great big grin. "Ah, those two...I recently visited their shop...very interesting. Anyway, back on track." He cleared his throat, still laughing a bit. "Another curse? You must know one...Ms. Abbott! How about you?"

"There's the Leg-Locker Curse," she replied. "The incantation is _Locomotor Mortis_ and it immobilizes the victim's legs."

"_Parfait_, Ms. Abbott!" Professor Morrigan seemed quite pleased. "Another..."

"I heard of one, Professor," said Brenna, her hand shooting up in the air. Hermione huffed in annoyance. Usually _she_ was the one doing that...

"Alright then, Ms. Foster. Go on," said Morrigan.

Brenna didn't seem the slightest bit disturbed by what she said next. "I was reading in the library the other night and it spoke of the curse called _Morsmordre._" Morrigan blinked once, seeming in shock. "It conjures the Dark Mark." By now almost everyone tensed, but oh, not _Ms. Foster_...no, she continued to have a smug look on her face.

"Oh yeah...that..._that_ curse," murmured Professor Morrigan, scratching his head. "Right. Yes, that's a curse. You read it in...a book, you say?"

"Yes, Professor."

"I would guess the Restricted Section?"

"Er...yes..."

"Thought so." Hermione looked at Brenna, triumphant as she finally saw an uneasy look finally go across Foster's face. _Foster...I should just call her _that_ instead...why haven't I...?_

"How about a curse that...not very many people use. Mr. Potter! You must know one!" He pointed to Harry, who stiffened in his seat. He looked back at the Professor. He muttered something quietly, no one heard what he said.

"What was that?" asked Morrigan, placing his hand over his ear to show he didn't hear it. Harry said it louder.

"_Sectumsempra_," he said, shifting in his seat. He looked as awkward as Hermione felt. It was Professor Snape's own spell. Not everyone knew what the spell did, but they must have heard it once or twice during the battle.

The Professor blinked a couple times. "Hmm...curious you know that spell, Potter," he said, no emotion in his voice.

"It is a curse, sir?"

"Of course. Any spell that intends harm, control or death is known as a curse. And, Potter," he hesitated. "How...how did you come across such a curse?"

"I read it in a book," replied Harry, cooly. Morrigan nodded.

"Of course. Most are read up from books. I expect you know the effects and counter-curses?"

Harry scratched his head, attempting to think about it. "I...It's...like a sword, I think. An invisible sword that cuts through the victim..."

"Yes, and only one spell can cure it. Do you know what that spell is, Mr. Potter?"

Harry simply shook his head, defeated.

"The spell is _Vulnera Sanentur._ Can be cast once, up to three times, depending on how bad the wounds are. The first time, flow of blood eases; second time the wounds knit; third time removes the bad effects. Then you would need Dittany to avoid scarring." Professor Morrigan turned and began walking back up to his office. "Class dismissed."

Most stood up immediately, while others lingered for a minute.

"Mr. Potter," called Professor Morrigan. "I want to talk." Harry stood up. Ron, Ginny and Hermione all looked at him. Harry waved them off, saying a quick, "I'll see you in the Common Room. Ron, you _are _coming, right?"

"Sure."

Harry nodded before following Professor Morrigan in his office.

When he got in, he immediately noticed the crystal ball sitting on his table. There were many flasks and bottles sitting beside it, all cluttered on his desk. The rest of the room didn't look much better. There were random, rusty cages lying everywhere, open trunks and suitcases, books half-read on the ground (_dear Merlin,_ he thought, _I hope Hermione doesn't have to pay a visit..._), then a rather odd Patronus, sitting on the side of the desk. It stared at Harry intently, making him feel uneasy.

"I apologize for the mess," he said, chuckling. He conjured something for himself and Harry to sit on. Harry furrowed his brow and sat down.

"Professor?" He looked up. "Why are we sitting in...well..."

"Short stools? It's easier for me to look at the orb I got from the Divination classroom." He thought for a moment. "Unless of course, you would prefer a bigger chair..."

"It doesn't matter. I was just wondering. And that..."

"Is a phoenix, yes," replied Morrigan, pointing at his Patronus. "Same as Professor Dumbledore's."

"Right," stated Harry. "Um..." he began, after a moment of silence (and after double-taking the phoenix once or twice. He swore, it was staring straight at him), "Professor, why am I here?"

Morrigan nodded and pointed at his Patronus. "I was hoping I would get to see your Patronus, Mr. Potter." Harry seemed a bit suspicious.

"Why?"

Morrigan shrugged before replying. "Merely curious. You're not the only one I've asked, boy. There were...others."

"Others?"

"A few of your classmates. I have to say many of them were quite good at getting the Patronus right. They tell me you are very skilled at the Patronus charm, and they learned from you."

Harry scratched his neck, feeling quite flattered. "Okay..."

"I had a little trouble with a couple Slytherins, however, is it safe to say they refused to learn it?"

"Er...something like that, yeah." Morrigan nodded at Harry's answer, slightly beckoning him to show him.

He took out his wand, and began to think...

His happiest memory. Quietly, he recited, "_Expecto Patronum._" Out of his wand, came a white, ghostly looking stag. It gracefully walked up to Morrigan's phoenix Patronus, bowed it's head lightly, then disappeared. Morrigan clapped loud and slow.

"Well done. I can see where they got their skill from," he said, smiling.

Morrigan took out a piece of tattered parchment, something you normally would find in a trash bin, opened it and tapped it with his wand. It enlarged, and began floating up behind the phoenix Patronus. The phoenix looked at it expectantly. Morrigan tapped it again, and Harry stared wide-eyed at a chart with the many different Patronus' of...seemingly random people.

He had to admit – he was amazed. Not by all the various Patronuses, but at the amount of people he had fit into one piece of, what seemed like a crumpled up, old piece of parchment. All of them were moving, smiling at their Patronus.

Harry looked at it and remembered many of the Patronuses of people he knew – he caught a glimpse of Ginny, smiling with her horse Patronus. Luna Lovegood was with a hare, Ernie Macmillan and his boar...Seamus chasing a fox...

There were others too. Aberforth Dumbledore was standing with a goat Patronus, there was Tonks and a werewolf, even Professor McGonagall was with a cat. Then he saw it – Albus Dumbledore, a phoenix flying around his head, then landing beside him. _Fawkes._ He saw his parents, a stag and a doe, and then...

"Professor Snape," he said, slightly dumbfounded. "His Patronus was...a doe?"

"Indeed. Though, I am not sure if I am the right person to tell you why that is." He shook his head. "Poor Severus. But let's not dwell on it for long."

"Why, Professor? Why do you–"

"Collect these, Mr. Potter?" He stood up off of his chair, as if contemplating something. "I've been searching, and _searching_...there's a reason...for all of this to have happened. I understand that staring at the Patronus charm all day won't help, but I feel...there is something..." He shook his head. Harry noted that he sounded almost like Dumbledore, even if he was far younger than the old Headmaster.

Then he looked back at the parchment. He pointed at the four corners with his wand, and they glowed brightly, yellow, blue, red and green. Four new figures appeared on the corners of the parchment.

Harry didn't realize it immediately, but as he looked at the red corner, there was a rather large man carrying a sword, and as Harry stared at his hair and beard, he noticed the man greatly resembled a lion. There was no mistaking who it was when Harry saw that his Patronus seemed to share the same great mane.

"That's Godric Gryffindor, isn't it?" he said in amazement. The Professor nodded, and Harry looked at the other corners. He saw Rowena Ravenclaw, an eagle flying around her. Then there was Helga Hufflepuff with a badger, as well as...

"Where is Salazar Slytherin's Patronus?" he asked, rather curious. Slytherin was looking a little grim, but he didn't seem too worried on where his Patronus had gone. This disturbed Harry quite a bit.

Morrigan pointed to where a purple region on the parchment began to glow, and the many people and Patronuses began to step aside, letting through a snake.

In the middle was a woman. She was beautiful, smooth face and bright, silver eyes, wearing violet robes and seemed to have a very interested in something that wasn't there. _If I knew any better, I'd think __she was looking for Nargles,_ thought Harry, chuckling.

Beside her was, what seemed, like a fox, helping her with whatever she was looking for.

Slytherin's snake Patronus came up and to Harry's horror, began attacking the fox Patronus, striking it with its fangs and squeezing it as if to make sure it couldn't breath. The woman fell, as if feeling the effect. She was clutching her side, bleeding, even though the snake seemed to be attacking everywhere but.

After about thirty seconds, the fox had fallen to the ground, defeated. The woman fell and seemed to be crying for a second, before fainting herself. Satisfied, the snake made its way back to Salazar, seemingly hissing. Harry was quite happy he couldn't he couldn't hear any of it, because he was quite sure the woman would have been screaming.

"Who...who was she?" asked Harry, tentatively. Morrigan looked at the parchment, then back at Harry. He looked both saddened and incredulous, why that was, Harry didn't know.

"According to books, her name was Vana Vulpslurk...a muggleborn witch." He said the last few words bitterly, and Harry vaguely wondered why. "They also say she was a great friend to all the founders of Hogwarts, was even given the chance of having her very own house to be head of. She seemed to get along with them...all but Slytherin there." He pointed to Salazar. "The books state that he didn't trust her, for obvious reasons."

"Did his Patronus, really..."

"Do that? No, I don't believe so. But it is curious you saw that."

"I...what?" Harry raised an eyebrow.

"It seems you are one of the only six students, out of all the ones I've seen, to have noticed. All the others claimed the snake to have been with the _Great_ Salazar the whole time. Strange, huh?"

Harry thought for a moment. "Who else saw it"

"I believe your friends Ron Weasley, his sister Ginny Weasley, Brenna Foster and Hermione Granger were four of them."

"And the other?"

Professor Morrigan paused before answering. "The last was Draco Malfoy."

**A/N: **Ah! Vana has such a horrible last name! Oh well...too late. Whatever.

The **5th **Chapter is called _"__I'm Fine__"_ (by Kimya Dawson) and the song quote is :

"_I turned it back and now everything's fine, _

_Except for the fact that I lost my friend, _

_But the ends justify the means in the end. _

_And I am fine,_

_I'm fine, _

_I'm fine..."_


	6. Chapter 5: I'm Fine

**A/N: 5th Chapter. Still a bit confusing, but stay with me here! It'll get better. Promise.**

**I was so excited today that I decided to finish off the Fifth Chapter. It's all coming fast, wow.**

**Sorry there hasn't been very much Dramione lately. Stay with me here, this IS A DRAMIONE STORY. There is a _tiny_ bit of interaction here, but not a lot. Be patient. It'll come. :)**

**Anyway, read and enjoy! :)**

**Disclaimer: Harry Potter is owned by JK Rowling, the song "I'm Fine" is by Kimya Dawson. All I own is the (ADDED) plot and the OCs.**

**I'm Fine**

**...***...**

Chapter 5

"_I turned it back and now everything's fine, _

_Except for the fact that I lost my friend, _

_But the ends justify the means in the end. _

_And I am fine,_

_I'm fine, _

_I'm fine..."_

_-__I'm Fine, __**Kimya Dawson**_

_Funny. Who am I talking to again?_

_Nice try._

_Why won't you tell me?_

_I find not knowing who you're writing to to be rather thrilling._

Hermione groaned once again, in the library with Ron. He looked up at Hermione, _slightly_ pissed.

No, not slightly. Very pissed. _Amazingly_ pissed. The list just goes on and on.

"'Mione, you've done that a hundred times. Is there something about the homework you don't understand?"

Hermione looked at him, incredulously. "Why would there be something on my homework that _I_ don't understand?" she demanded. He raised his hands in a mock surrender. She shook her head and looked back at the parchment. Ron looked at it and snatched it from under her hand. She made a noise in protest, but Ron didn't seem to notice. He looked wide-eyed at it, turning it over once or twice.

"It's a Note-Passer!" He exclaimed. Ron looked quite amazed at her, then back at the parchment, then back at Hermione.

"How do you know what it is?"

"Fred and George were working on it. Showed me it when it wasn't even finished yet. Apparently they asked someone to test it for them." Ron looked at Hermione. "Did they...?"

"No," replied Hermione, immediately. "They never gave me anything. Unless they were the ones who hid it in that book..."

"Maybe. Why don't you ask?" he said, pointing at the Note-Passer that was now sitting on the desk in front of Hermione. She took out her quill and began writing.

_Are you Fred or George Weasley?_

There was a moment. Hermione and Ron were quite sure...

_No. Merlin woman, you're terrible at this._

"So is that why you've seemed so frustrated?" asked Ron. "Because this bloke won't tell you who he or she is?"

"Yes," answered Hermione. "It's like they think it's a game or something."

"Maybe we could ask Fred and George who they got to test it," said Ron. Hermione was about to say something when Harry walked over and sat beside Hermione, across from Ron. Before any of them could talk, however, Harry spoke up.

"Did Professor Morrigan talk to you guys about Patronuses?" They both nodded in response. "He just talked to me. And he showed you...Slytherin..."

"And Vana Vulpslurk?" added Hermione. Harry nodded. "Yes. He said only a few could see it. Then he started talking about Divination, but I hardly believe in that stuff." She shook her head, but continued. "I did find a bit of information on her in a book though."

"Great," answered Harry. "What book?"

"I..." she hesitated. "I don't remember."

Something came up on the Note-Passer:

_Wasn't it in some book you were reading the other day? Some history book?_

Two things hit her right there. The first, was the fact that she now_ did_ remember reading something, but it was only a small sentence. Nevertheless, it was a good idea to go looking for the book and finding the passage.

The second thing that hit her was how much this person sounded like–

_Have you been STALKING ME?_

She got a reply seconds afterwards.

_No. Why would someone stalk __YOU__? F_

Hermione looked at it for a couple seconds. Why was there an unfinished "F" on the side? Was it an initial? She rolled her eyes, folded the parchment and put it in her pocket. She then looked at Harry and Ron, who seemed quite interested in her little "conversation."

"Who's that?"

"I don't know." Before the boys could talk more about something as off-topic as note-passing, she stood up. "I think I remember the book I need."

"Do you need help?" suggested Ron.

"No, I think I'll be fine. You two keep studying." She vaguely heard Ron snort, knowing that he wasn't actually studying. He was simply there because his friends were. Shaking it off, Hermione walked over to the section of the library where she knew the book would be hiding. She began walking through the shelves, running her fingers across the bookshelves when they landed on the book she was looking for – _Hogwarts, A History_.

She took it down and flipped through the pages up to a section labelled _Founders of Hogwarts._

She turned and saw a crumpled up piece of parchment fly just past her head and was caught by none other than Draco Malfoy. The blond crumpled it up even more and, without looking up from his book, threw it at Parkinson and a bunch of her friends.

"Wow," Hermione whispered to herself. "If they were trying to hit _me_, they missed."

"They weren't trying to hit _you_," stated Malfoy, still not looking up from his book. Hermione jumped. He continued. "They've been doing that for a while now."

"And why is that?" she asked. Hermione found herself sounding quite demanding.

"Complications." He said it so quietly, Hermione almost had to ask him to repeat it.

"Are..." she couldn't believe she was saying this. "Are you alright?"

"No. Go away," he said quickly, his voice slowly rising, but eyes still glued to the book. Hermione rolled her eyes and brushed past him, not saying a word.

She didn't notice when he'd finally taken his eyes off his book and furrowed his eyebrows, clearly contemplating something.

**...***...! #$%^&*()_+...***...**

"Here it is! I found it!" said Hermione, excitedly. Finally, after about twenty to thirty minutes of searching, she finally found it. It didn't normally take that long. _Especially_ with this book. She practically memorized this book, so why it took so long was a complete mystery. Hermione had to reread a few times. How...uncharacteristic.

Her sudden outburst was quite unexpected, as it was causing Harry and Ron to jump up from their seats in the library and getting glares from all the other students. Hermione began pointing at a spot on the page. It was a small paragraph, not even a picture. She seemed slightly disappointed, but gave them an idea.

**Vana Vulpslurk**

_Vana Vulpslurk was a muggleborn witch, and a good friend of three of the founders of Hogwarts – Godric Gryffindor, Helga Hufflepuff and Rowena Ravenclaw. Able to see the future with an unusual clarity, Vana was originally going to be the very first Divination professor at Hogwarts, but was unable to due to an accident possibly involving the founder of Slytherin house, Salazar Slytherin. It is noted that she is usually found in her own little world, and spent much of her time with her fox Patronus. Vana spent so much time with it, that she eventually named it "Cani", in honour of her Muggle sister. _

"Is that it?" asked Harry. "There must be more."

"Well, it does explain a bit. Not that any of this was unexpected..." Hermione trailed off. "There's more, look Harry:"

_Despite her innocent and quiet demeanour, she was sought out to be rather wily, cunning, and even seductive, being one of the first ever witches in the Wizarding World to create a Horcrux._

"She created a Horcrux?" questioned Harry, a part of him unable to believe it. Reading it a couple times over, he began to have disturbing images of Luna Lovegood committing murder...not like that would ever happen, but he shuddered at the thought of someone _like_ her doing the same thing.

Ron was pointing at something that caught her eye.

"What's that?" he asked. It looked like a cross with a snake wrapped around it. Its tongue kept moving, making the Trio's stomachs churn. "Could it mean she was killed by a snake?"

"It could, I mean, it makes sense really," answered Harry, looking closer. "The cross, the snake...but the moving tongue?"

"Probably still tasting something..."

Hermione looked at it for a second. She swore she'd seen it before. Then it hit her.

She rushed a couple pages back and got to Salazar Slytherin. The same symbol was placed there.

"Slytherin was killed by a snake?" wondered Ron, out loud.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "No, Ronald. Maybe you should look at the symbol more closely." Ron and Harry both bent their heads over the book in an attempt to see something. After about a minute, however, Hermione bet they were still clueless. She rolled her eyes. "Look. The 'cross' might not be a cross at all. It could be a lowercase 'T'..."

"No way..." said Ron, incredulously. When Hermione bet he'd finally figured it out, he looked up at her and said something that smothered that thought completely. "He had a snake's tongue? I mean, I knew his symbol and Patronus was a snake and all, but..."

"Ron!" she said, completely frustrated. "T! Snake! Tongue! She was a _Parselmouth_!" Ron and Harry gaped down at the book, then back at Hermione.

"Whoa..."

"Well then..." added Harry, scratching the back of his neck.

"Strange too, it said she was a muggleborn," said Hermione, going back to the page. "And I don't remember reading this..."

"You don't remember– What? Hermione, that's a really bad joke."

"I'm not kidding, Ron! I seriously don't remember. It just mentioned her name before–"

"We should get to the Great Hall," interrupted Harry. "I'm getting hungry."

"Me too, now that I think about it," said Ron, immediately jumping off his seat and racing out the door. Harry followed suit. Hermione stared at the book a little while longer before going off to put it back. She looked over and noticed Malfoy hadn't left. He had his head in his arms, down on the table. You would have guessed he was sleeping. She saw a crumpled piece of parchment near where she sat. She picked it up and just as she put the book back, she opened it up. There was writing. As difficult as it seemed to read it, she still managed to understand what it said.

She folded it up and put it in her pocket as she left the library, picking up her bag and everything in the process.

**A/N:** The next chapter is called "Photograph" (by Nickelback) and the song quote is:

"_I miss that town, _

_I miss their faces, _

_You can't erase, _

_You can't replace it. _

_I miss it now, _

_I can't believe it, _

_So hard to say it, _

_Too hard to leave it. _

_If I could relive those days, _

_I know the one thing that I would never change..."_


	7. Chapter 6: Photograph

**A/N: Hi guys! Finally able to post the 6th Chapter up. :)**

**Just to clarify something: I write all of my Chapters and stories on my laptop. Unfortunately, the WiFi in my house is really crappy, which means I transfer everything using a USB key. It's not an extremely long process, but posting does take longer than it should.**

**Right...anyway, read and enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: Harry Potter is owned by JK Rowling, the song _"Photograph"_ is by Nickelback. All I own is the (ADDED) plot and the Ocs. (I also own "metamizles".)**

_**Photograph**_

**...***...**

Chapter 6

"_I miss that town, _

_I miss their faces, _

_You can't erase, _

_You can't replace it. _

_I miss it now, _

_I can't believe it, _

_So hard to say it, _

_Too hard to leave it. _

_If I could relive those days, _

_I know the one thing that I would never change..."_

_-__Photograph,__**Nickelback**_

Hermione kept staring at the parchment she found being thrown at Malfoy as she ate breakfast the next day. She was puzzled. There wasn't a lot written, but it didn't make sense to her. The Draco Malfoy _she_ knew didn't associate with these words.

_Draco Malfoy = Blood traitor!_

She looked up at the Slytherin table. Malfoy seemed deep in thought. All the other Slytherins, besides Zabini, had probably decided to completely ignore him now. Hermione couldn't shake the feeling of being sorry for him. Not that he'd ever take her pity if she said it to his face.

After breakfast, she went to her first class of the day: Transfiguration. Probably her favourite class, though, she liked all of her classes (all of _her_ classes, emphasis on _her_ – Divination was still something she hated). She walked in, feeling content and seeing Professor McGonagall sitting at her desk. She looked around and took an empty desk to the side. The classroom began to fill up and after a while, then there was Harry and Ginny coming in to take the seats beside her. She knew Ron and Foster weren't in this class. the Professor stood up from her desk and began her teaching.

Just as she finished giving out assignments, someone came bursting in the door. Hermione half expected it to be Professor Morrigan, but was slightly shocked at who actually came in. She didn't even notice until now that Draco Malfoy wasn't exactly _present._ He seemed shaken up, breathing heavily.

"Mr. Malfoy..." she beckoned for him to come up to her desk. Hermione found herself eavesdropping again.

"I hear this is the ninth time you have come to class exceedingly late, Mr. Malfoy."

"It won't happen again, Professor," he reassured, but there was something odd with the. He seemed out of breath, either from running to class or something else...

She looked at him skeptically.

"Very well." She motioned for the very last seat in the class – right beside Hermione. She groaned inwardly, not looking up and doing her work. She didn't hear him complain and he went to go sit beside her, staring at the writing on the blackboard as if attempting to figure out what the lesson was about.

Hermione turned to Harry and Ginny. Harry scowled at Malfoy and Ginny looked sympathetic at Hermione. She shrugged and gave a look saying, "I'll manage."

She glanced quickly at Malfoy, who didn't look at her, or acknowledge her in any way. _I'm fine with that,_ she thought, before turning to her work.

The rest of class seemed to drag on forever, and Hermione was wondering what was going on with the supposed, "Slytherin Prince". _He hasn't said anything. No stupid remarks, no name-calling, no nothing..._

Once the bell rang and McGonagall dismissed them, Malfoy was up in a flash, grabbing his books and leaving the room. _Just like in all his other classes..._

She turned to leave with Harry and Ginny. "Are you alright?" asked Ginny, looking at her best friend. Hermione nodded, but there was a slight confusion on her face.

"What are you talking about? Of course I'm fine," she reassured. Harry and Ginny looked at her strangely, but they just simply nodded.

As they turned the corner, they saw Foster, walking with what looked like Cho and Padma. The three walked up to Harry, Hermione and Ginny.

"Had fun in Transfiguration?" asked Foster, smiling a little too cheerfully. Hermione bit the inside of her cheek to stop from saying anything. Harry and Ginny simply nodded, smiling back and being completely oblivious to how fake Foster seemed to be. _Something's wrong with her. How can they not see it? She's a horrible actress._

Just then, they saw Luna walking up to them. She stopped, looking at the group curiously. "Professor Dumbledore wanted to talk to you four," she pointed to Hermione, Ginny, Harry and Foster.

Foster raised an eyebrow. "Why is that?"

"He didn't tell me. But he asked me to get you. He's very busy, you see." They nodded and followed Luna, a little unsure why she was walking with them. Hermione found herself slowing down behind the pack, and noticing this, Luna began to slow down as well.

"How are you today, Hermione?" she asked, innocence plaguing her voice. Hermione smiled, but didn't respond. Luna looked at her. "You seem deep in thought. What's on your mind?"

"I don't know...was it just us he wanted to speak to?"

"No. He told me to go find Ron and Draco too, but I've looked all over the castle." _When did Luna start calling him Draco? _Either something happened, or it was always like that. There was a look of worry on Hermione's face, and Luna continued. "I found Ron. He's alright. But I couldn't find Draco...it's sad really. All the Slytherins are against him now. He wouldn't tell me why. He did tell me it mostly came from Nott, Parkinson..."

"Parkinson?" Now Hermione was really confused. Moreover, Malfoy was talking with _Luna_ about this stuff? "How do you know this stuff? You were talking with him?"

"Yes," spoke Luna. "He came up to me, actually. He wanted to know if I owned any Ravenclaw earrings..."

"What?"

"He didn't tell me why. He just said it was important. Have you seen his eyes? They look extraordinarily strange these days."

"How so?"

"It's almost like they change colour, but it goes away too quickly for others to notice. I asked if it were the metamizles since I was able to see them change, but he simply blinked and said it was some Disillusionment charm that went wrong over the holidays. I still think it was the metamizles, they like to change the colours of things to confuse us. Oh look, we're here," she replied, changing the subject. Hermione turned to see the entrance to Professor Dumbledore's office.

"Peppermint," said Luna, firmly. The gargoyle moved, showing the way to Dumbledore. Luna smiled lightly, "I'm off to find Draco then," and she turned and walked away. Harry turned to the rest of the group, shrugged, then proceeded into the chamber.

It looked the same as always. Ron was in here already, and everything seemed in place, except...

"Good day, Harry, it is lovely to see you once again," spoke Dumbledore, coming down from the steps toward his desk. "And the rest of you too, of course." He nodded toward Hermione, Ginny and Foster.

Fawkes was absent. His little perch was empty.

"Professor," started Harry, "sorry, but I just realized – where is Fawkes?"

"Ah, you see, Harry, Fawkes has been...very busy these days," replied Dumbledore, looking at the spot Fawkes is usually placed. "He comes in and out. I'm afraid this is one of those times where he is off."

"Excuse me sir, but why are we here?" asked Hermione, cutting in.

"Yes of course. Come over here to the Pensieve. Mr. Weasley, you may go," he looked at Ron, who, reluctantly, nodded and left the office. Foster grabbed Ron's arm and said something in his ear that Hermione couldn't make out.

They all looked questioningly at the silver disk. Harry suspected the memory was already in there, seeing that Ron was just here a moment ago.

"Within this Pensieve," he began, looking over at the four of them, "contains a memory. The memory of a boy that first came to this school very shortly before you did. In fact, he was only in his third year when you came. A very strange boy this was. I must warn you – you may see things you would not believe, some things may seem...out of the ordinary, and then there will be things that seem too believable to be real. Despite all this, it is very important that you four see this."

_Diagon Alley._

_It sounded as busy as ever, and with the amount of people, he couldn't quite pin-point where the owner of the memory was._

_Then he heard it. Louder voices, coming from somewhere behind him. Harry turned, and to his dismay, he saw a blond-haired family he knew all too well – the Malfoys._

_But it wasn't just them. There was one more. He seemed a little older than Draco Malfoy, who himself seemed to be nearing his Second Year. The boy seemed like a misfit in their little clan – black, messy, semi-long hair that looked like the boy had brushed through it only once with a comb, his eyes were just as dark, nearing some sort of charcoal grey in colour, and he wore what seemed like Ravenclaw robes._

_He looked up at Lucius and said something that Harry couldn't quite hear, then pointed to, what looked like, Hermione and her parents. His face turned disgusted, and Harry immediately knew this boy was probably another snobby Pureblood. Funny though, he'd never really seen him before._

_The boy turned and left the group, going to look at racing brooms. Harry had an odd feeling about this boy, so he went to go over and see what he was really up to._

_Turns out he was just like any Quidditch obsessed boy – not that he wasn't one himself – but all he did was look at brooms and other Quidditch equipment, playing with a gold Galleon absentmindedly. As much as Harry wanted to think this boy was up to something, he didn't think he'd find anything to prove his point._

_That was when it happened._

_Just as the boy left the store, he ran SMACK! right in to a girl about his age. She dropped all the books and boxes she had been carrying. She descended down to the ground and began picking up her things, not looking up at the boy she'd just run into. "Oh! I'm so sorry! I should've watched where I was going! I'm so clumsy...sorry..." She kept rambling on, still not looking up._

_The boy got down on his knees and began helping her. "S'alright." His voice was emotionless, as if something were missing._

_Finally, she looked up, and so did he. There was a moment, and Harry took it to look over the girl he had just helped._

_He wasn't even going to deny the fact that she was pretty, and that was an understatement. She was actually, quite beautiful. She had curly, golden-brown hair that fell down her shoulders, and even as she moved her head, it didn't seem to fall out of place. It did, but it would go right back. She had big, deep blue eyes which made her look...innocent. _

_She blushed and looked back down to pick up her things. The boy took one of the notebooks and went to hand it to her. It looked like a rather expensive notebook. It seemed to be fully made of leather, however, the cover was red and the leather bindings were black. What puzzled Harry, however, was the blurred out image on the front cover. It moved, if only slightly, but Harry caught it. That was when he realized something was up._

_The girl looked at what he'd picked up, and waved it off. "Keep it." The boy seemed a bit taken aback, and looked at the notebook curiously._

"_But–"_

"_Just take it," she replied with a smile. "I already have one. My brother likes giving me two of the same things, it seems."_

"_Your brother...?"_

"_Yes– oh!" She looked back at him, flustered and blushing dangerously red. "Oh, it's um...nothing."_

"_I see," he replied. He stood up with the notebook still clutched in his grasp. He held out a hand and she took it. There was a pause. "I didn't catch your name," he said, quietly._

"_Aura. Aura Seymour."_

"_Fine name." He smiled. It was a strange smile – halfway between a smirk and a grin. "I'm Fox Black."_

_Fox's eyes shifted, as if to look toward Harry, grin still plastered on, and next thing Harry knew, he was back in the Headmaster's study._

"What...what was that, Professor?" demanded Harry. He didn't understand why Dumbledore was showing him – let alone Hermione, Brenna and Ginny as well. It seemed so...ordinary. It didn't look to important at all. Save the Malfoy bit...but was that important at all anymore either?

"I suspect this memory – as with Slughorn's in your Sixth Year – to be a lie," began Dumbledore. "I would ask for you to find and get this boy to come clean, but it won't be so simple. That is why I've asked six to look into it for me. Do you remember the boy's name?"

"Fox Black," stated Brenna, speaking for the first time in a while. "It's an odd name."

"Indeed, Ms. Foster," replied Dumbledore. "I have a feeling..." he paused for a minute. Then, "...he may hold a key to defeating Voldemort."

A/N: The **7****th** Chapter is called _"__Haunted__"_ (by Taylor Swift) and the song quote is:

"_It's getting dark, _

_And it's all too quiet, _

_And now I can't trust anything now, _

_And it's coming over you like it's all a big mistake. _

_Oh I'm holding my breath, _

_Won't lose you again, _

_Something's made your eyes go cold..."_


	8. Chapter 7: Haunted

**A/N: 7th Chapter is up! Hope you guy's like it.**

**Wherein Harry and Ron are early for class, Hermione asks a lot of questions, Draco's acting weird and...oh dear, it's about time I've gotten into the Dramione part of this story. I had fun writing this chapter. :) CONTAINS LOTS OF FLUFF. I think. "Fluff" is fun, happy writing, right? I can't remember the definition...**

**This is probably the longest chapter I have so far. o.O**

**Anyway, read and enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: Harry Potter is owned by JK Rowling, the song _"Haunted"_ is by Taylor Swift. All I own is the (ADDED) plot.**

_**Haunted**_

**...***...**

Chapter 7

"_It's getting dark, _

_And it's all too quiet, _

_And now I can't trust anything now, _

_And it's coming over you like it's all a big mistake. _

_Oh I'm holding my breath, _

_Won't lose you again, _

_Something's made your eyes go cold..."_

_-__Haunted,__**Taylor Swift**_

"Harry, you're thinking too hard."

"I'm serious! Don't you find it at least the _slightest_ bit suspicious that his first name is 'Fox'? And then – before – when Professor Morrigan showed us that parchment? Didn't you see? Her Patronus was a fox!"

"Harry, stop. You're just going to get into a ton of trouble. Again!" said Hermione, concern present in her voice.

"Yeah, you're head's going to explode," added Ron. "But...you have to admit, it does seem rather odd."

Hermione nodded slowly in reply, whilst Harry gave an exasperated sigh before doing his own nod. After the silent answers, they continued on their way to the Great Hall for lunch. It was just the two and Ron at the moment. Ginny and Foster felt they had things going on, and left them.

Just as they turned a corner, they saw Luna walking on her own down the corridor. They were just about to go up and say hi when an unusual sight came to greet them.

Malfoy – who'd been lounging in the shadows – walked straight up to Luna. The Ravenclaw stopped in her tracks and turned. They talked for a minute before Luna took something out of one of her robe pockets.

_Ravenclaw earrings!_ thought Hermione. Her eyes were open wide and her mouth looked ready to catch a fly. So Luna wasn't completely loony when she was explaining Draco Malfoy wanting Ravenclaw earrings from her. But _why_?

He rushed off after nodding to Luna and that was when the Golden Trio decided to make their entrance.

"What were you talking to Malfoy for?" asked Harry, puzzled. Luna looked at him. She – once again – had her trademark dreamy look on her face.

"Draco? He's been wanting those for a while now. Says they're important."

"And you believed him?" questioned Ron, absolutely furious. Luna frowned.

"Of course. Was there a reason not to?"

"_WAS THERE A REASON NOT TO?_ BLOODY Hell, HE'S DRACO _FREAKING_ MALFOY! IS THAT NOT ENOUGH REASON?"

Luna blinked. Harry was stunned. Hermione grabbed Ron and pulled him with her toward the Great Hall. What he did was rude and...rather harsh. She was sure Harry could clear up his outburst with Luna. Hermione and Ron didn't stop until they reached the Gryffindor table in the Great Hall.

**...***...! #$%^&*()_+...***...**

Hermione could be found in the library later that day. She had set her bag on the table, opened. Her Arithmancy book was out, propped up on the bag, but she wasn't focused solely on her studies (for once). Harry's speculation on Fox Black and his memories made her want to come back to the library and do some extra research on the matter. She had brought her own copy of _Hogwarts, A History_ in hopes that it'll give some more information.

When they got to the Great Hall, her and Ron, she'd practically screamed at him for yelling at Luna, earning them both shocked looks from the rest of the students and teachers in the Hall. Hermione didn't mind the staring, she was so infuriated with the red-head in front of her, she didn't even notice Foster coming over to save him from anymore yelling. That had annoyed Hermione for the rest of lunch.

Now, currently being in the library, she had about half an hour until her next lesson. Perfect amount of time to get some homework done, as well as work on the case. Damn, she sounded like a detective.

Some strange noise made Hermione look up, and her gaze shifted toward the Restricted Section of the library. She didn't see anyone. She made a move to go check what it was, but then sat back down. Strangely enough, she wasn't in the mood. She was still a little peeved about her not becoming Head Girl, and that completely changed her mood toward being a Prefect.

She shook her head and looked back down at her book. As interesting at it was, she couldn't get something out of her head.

_Fox Black...could it mean something if you change the name? As in, Black Fox? But what would _that_ mean?_ She was convinced that was what seemed so strange about the name. It was quite peculiar that his name was so..._backwards_. In English, anyway. It could have been passed off as a badly translated French thing. _Renard Noir_. She knew a little French, but not enough to know if her translation or theory was right or not.

But this thought made Hermione shake her head in frustration. _What would _that_ have anything to do with anything?_ But if that were the case...the strange name. Then it hit her.

_What if it were fake?_ It could definitely be true. Dumbledore did say there may be things that could be so believable, it was inevitable that they were fake.

But how was it fake? He was with the Malfoy family – Narcissa Malfoy, _née Black_. It could be some sort of...distant relative.

_Where were his parents?_ All this thinking (there must have been a lot of thinking, because thinking didn't usually get to Hermione like it did this time,) was giving her an immense headache. This didn't normally happen, but it was making her tired. Thinking of more than one subject at a time – it _has_ happened before (around the time she decided she was never going to use a Time-Turner for extra classes again!).

She groaned, then folded her arms on the table and let her head rest on it. Her eyes were threatening to close, but she held them open. She couldn't fall asleep with, what...fifteen minutes left until her next class?

Eventually though, she finally gave in and her eyes drifted off to sleep.

**...***...! #$%^&*()_+...***...**

"Granger...Granger!" Someone was talking to her. And...poking her? Who was that...? She didn't know. All she knew was that she was sleeping, rather...uncomfortably...why was it uncomfortable...?

Her head shot up, startling whoever was waking her. Hermione wondered for a minute what she was doing in the library (that didn't usually happen. She must've been _really_ asleep). Her vision was still cloudy. She squinted her eyes and looked at...

"Malfoy?"

"Well spotted Granger. You know, I was planning on being the only one late for our Defence Against the Dark Arts class, seeing as the teacher is always late himself. But seeing that you're here as well, I doubt that'll work out," he spoke casually. He was sitting across from her, leaning back, hands behind his head. And then there was that trademark smirk on his lips. Only it seemed...unfazed, playful even. Amused. Like he didn't care that he...she was...they were-

"Late? We're going to be late?"

"We already are, FYI."

Hermione stood up abruptly and raced to the entrance of the library to Defence Against the Dark Arts. It wasn't a usual thing for her to vent out all her current anger on someone else, silently anyway. She decided to make this an exception.

Oh she could _kill_ Malfoy! He was so infuriating sometimes! No, not sometimes..._all the time!_ She didn't understand why she felt so sorry for him these days! Parkinson, Nott and Goyle being on his case all the time. Zabini having to comfort him. Whether he actually _did_ comfort him, she didn't know. But she _did_ know he had just made her _late for class!_ He was probably just sitting there, watching her...sleep (an odd thought. Scary even.)...and waited until it was time for class to wake her up. He hadn't changed in the _slightest_.

But her thoughts did when she stepped into the classroom.

There were only a few kids. They all seemed to be chatting nonchalantly to each other. As per usual, Professor Morrigan was still in his study.

She threw her bag on her usual seat and swiftly walked over to Harry, who was talking with Ron and Ginny, and poked him hard in the shoulder. He gave a sharp "Ow!" and began rubbing his shoulder, looking over at her.

"What did I miss?"

He furrowed his brows, puzzled. "What are you talking about, Hermione? Class hasn't started yet."

"Well of course, I mean, Morrigan is always late-"

"No, I mean, class isn't even _supposed_ to start yet. You're early by like...five minutes." She blinked. _Early? By five minutes...?_ Alright, who played with her Time-Turner while she wasn't looking?

Nobody. She remembered giving it back to Professor McGonagall at the end of her Third Year. So that meant...had Malfoy..._the_ Draco Malfoy...actually had the decency to _help_ her? It was an odd way to do so, telling her that she was late and all, even though she wasn't...but helpful nonetheless.

Then she was vaguely aware of her bag feeling a little heavier than normal. Panicky, she rushed back to her desk and looked. She let out a sigh of relief. Her Arithmancy book was placed in, thoughtfully, she might add. All of her loose parchment paper was put neatly to the side, pressed against the books in such a fashion that they couldn't be crushed or crumpled.

She looked and checked for everything else. If her Arithmancy book was placed in her bag without her doing so, Malfoy or someone else _must've_ been going through her things – ah ha!

She spotted it. A notebook. Red cover, black bindings and-

_Leather._

She blinked. She blinked and blinked, but it was still there. Could it have been...?

Hermione reached in and took out the notebook. Yes, it was definitely leather. She felt the back of it with her hand, gingerly caressing it in her grasp. It seemed old, no, _used._ Was this actually the notebook they saw in the Pensieve?

She turned it over and looked at the cover. There was a picture of a Phoenix engraved on the front. It was beautifully drawn, and looked like it was handmade. She was _hoping_ that someone _human_ made it, because if this was another elf thing...then again, she wouldn't mind if it were goblin-made. Artifacts like that – such as the Sword of Gryffindor – were rare.

But the cover on the front of the book seen in the Pensieve didn't have a picture on it. It was blurred away. So Fox wasn't completely ignorant. It seemed he didn't want anyone to notice.

Then there was that chance that this wasn't the notebook. Not that she minded, but it would have helped a little bit with Dumbledore's mission.

As she brushed her hand over the front cover and across the phoenix, it glowed yellow, almost gold. Then across the top, it turned into text. Yellow text, much like phoenix.

_We meet at last, Guardian of the Otter._

What did that mean? "Guardian of the Otter?" Why did...?

There was a violent SLAM! of a door as Professor Morrigan, ever so gracefully, made his way down the steps, a great big grin plastered on. A blind person would have guessed Morrigan was either frustrated, angered, irritated, or all three by the sound that emitted from the door. On the other hand, a deaf person would have thought he was either simply content, happy or really quite excited or joyful for the upcoming lesson. It looked so out of order, the class couldn't contain their laughter. Hermione had to admit, it did look rather comical.

She didn't notice someone sit beside her until the very last minute, and by then it was too late.

Malfoy leaned back in his seat, taking out his quill and beginning to twirl it in his fingers, not acknowledging her in anyway. It was as if he didn't know he had sat beside her. But there was something about him that made Hermione realize that he _did_ know, just didn't want to gain any unwanted attention. Quite uncharacteristic if you asked her. He absolutely _adored_ attention. Then again, she wasn't going to pester him about it. If he wanted it, he'd get it himself. He _did_, not ten minutes ago, tell her to get a move on and not spoil her reputation of not being late for a single class yet.

Why'd he sit beside her though?

"Blaise is in the Hospital Wing because of a flying accident. Decided to spice things up a bit," he said, as if reading her thoughts. He didn't look at her, just continued to play with his quill. She took a good look at the quill in his hand. It seemed oddly...yellow.

She snapped back to reality and looked at Malfoy, who still decided to stare at the quill. "Why though? Aren't you...disgusted? Repulsed?"

"If I was, I wouldn't have been poking you in the library, would I?" he replied, finally turning his eyes toward her and stopping the movement of the quill. He seemed a little annoyed by what she said. "No, I would've just let you sleep for as long as you needed. Or waited until you were _really_ late to wake you. But being the oh so _heartless,_ albeit _thoughtful_ gentleman that I am, I decided to disturb that sorry attempt at some sort of beauty sleep – that you most definitely need, might I add – to make sure you and your silly little reputation weren't broken into a million pieces for skipping your very first class. No, there is absolutely _no_ need to thank me, just doing my job – being the sexiest and most attractive _ferret_ in Hogwarts." His voice was dripping _wet_ with sarcasm.

"Are you done ranting? I think you might have to wake me up again," replied Hermione, yawning.

Malfoy poked her. Repeatedly. "Wake up, Granger, wake up," he smirked, earning him a glare from Hermione.

"You're so childish."

He chuckled for a second, but his smirk faltered when he looked down at the notebook in Hermione's hands. Realizing what he was looking at she absentmindedly held onto the notebook tighter. "What's that?" he asked, innocently.

"I don't see how that's any of your business."

"It is most definitely my business, seeing that it's in your hand and I'm sitting here beside you...and it's glowing."

"I _still_ don't see how this is any of your business."

Malfoy rolled his eyes before reaching over to touch it. Hermione was about to protest when his finger rested on the left wing of the phoenix. The wing turned green, but the rest stayed yellow.

The "Guardian of the Otter" text vanished, but there wasn't any text that came up. Hermione looked up into Malfoy's eyes, and saw something that she never thought she would.

His eyes, were not their usual colour of grey, if not silver – they were _green_.

Malfoy hastily took his finger off the notebook. He turned and when he blinked, they were back to its original colour. Grey. _That's it? He just wanted to touch it? Did he want me to see his eyes change? Or...no, that was impossible. His eyes didn't change. I'm probably seeing things._ She shook her head before looking back at him. Malfoy had picked up his quill again and was twirling it in his fingers.

Did _her_ eyes change colour? She didn't know. Of all the things you could see, the only thing you can't see were the colour of your eyes unless you were in front of a mirror. One of the first things you ever learn. So Luna wasn't completely delusional either when she mentioned his eyes' change of attire.

Morrigan – to which the class had _just_ realized to be pacing in front of his desk the entire time – took an abrupt stop, picking up his wand and began to twirl it in his hand, much in the same fashion Malfoy was at that moment. He seemed deep in thought. His smile was replaced with a worried expression. It seemed awfully unnerving. Someone (that being Seamus,) coughed and the Professor's head shot up. He looked at the class as if he had finally registered their presence.

He looked around curiously. "I see we have a couple Muggleborns in the class," he murmured, almost to himself. The class heard it, but the way he said it...it was as if he didn't _want_ – no, that wasn't the word, more like _need_ – the rest of the class to hear it. He blinked. "Do any of you...heh...well...get _offended_ easily?" Well, wasn't that an odd question?

There began talking amongst the class. Morrigan hardly noticed. Then there was a comment from the back of the room. It seemed as if they were making sure the Muggleborns could hear it, but not Morrigan.

"Why does he need to ask?" called Parkinson from the back. "It's simple. All you have to do is say 'Mudblood' and count how many pools you have at the end of class-"

"Parkinson," spoke Morrigan, putting his attention to the back. He looked at Parkinson, his eyes seeming to go darker, yet lighter at the same time. Hermione just realized – his eyes weren't exactly grey at all, but there was some blue as well.

His voice was spoken calmly, but there was a red aura around him. He was angry, but kept it in.

Parkinson herself looked at him wide-eyed. The boggart would definitely become Professor Phoebus Morrigan if it weren't already.

Morrigan continued. "Do not speak of terms you do not already know the meaning of." Her jaw dropped. Of course she knew the meaning of the word 'Mudblood'! Why wouldn't she? She's been using that term for years now!

Of course she didn't say that to a _teacher_, but as if he had read her mind, (or face, it was giving something away too) Morrigan shook his head. "You don't know..." he mumbled, once again, almost to himself.

He turned to the rest of the class. "What is a Mudblood?" That was one question Hermione did not raise her hand for. She was expecting Malfoy to poke her again and tell her to answer the question – just to annoy her – but it never came. He continued to play with his quill, but his eyes shot up to look at the Professor when the question was asked.

"Goyle! Do you know?" he called abruptly, pointing in the big goon's direction. He seemed caught off-guard by the question and nearly fell off his seat. Hermione saw Malfoy smirk in his ex-friend's direction.

Goyle mumbled something.

"What was that?" Morrigan's voice was rising. He could very nearly become everyone's boggart.

He mumbled again.

"I'm sorry, I seem to have grown deaf. Speak. Louder. Goyle."

"A Muggleborn," said Goyle, looking down and finding his quill extremely interesting. Morrigan paused for a moment, then turned his attention to the rest of the class.

"Absolutely not!" he said. Hermione couldn't tell if he was content, cheerful, frustrated or peeved. The way he looked at everyone...the way he spoke...it contradicted each other. But what he said confused Hermione. She'd never heard of someone saying that a Muggleborn and a Mudblood were different. Different ways of saying it, yes, she'd heard that, but they had different meanings?

"So no one knows what a Mudblood is?" He looked around the classroom. No one raised their hands. "Hmm...well, seeing as you don't have an idea, how about that's the assignment for today? Everyone, take out a piece of parchment and a quill."

Hermione hastily went into her bag and took out a couple pieces of parchment and a quill and put them on the desk, holding the quill in her hand. She noticed Malfoy already had two pieces of parchment out, and she was a little surprised to see him now holding a different quill, rather than the yellow one, which was now discarded off to the side.

"I want you to write down what you _think_ is a Mudblood. With the knowledge that it is absolutely _not_ simply a Muggleborn witch or wizard. So no, I am not referring to anyone in this classroom. You have half an hour to figure it out. Go."

Hermione looked down at the paper, but her mind was blank. For the first time in her life, she didn't know what to write. It wasn't something she could figure out from a book (they didn't make anymore false stories about Mudbloods anymore, thank Merlin) so that option was definitely out. She saw out of the corner of her eye that Malfoy was writing something. _Probably an elaborate way of saying Mudblood is a way to describe a Muggleborn...in an extremely informal and rude way._ She was subconsciously gritting her teeth. She'd never been...like this. Unable to think of something to write on paper. A guessing game? This was truly a strange class this year.

Just then, she noticed text on one of the pieces of parchment she took out. It was the Note-Passer.

_The answer is any person (Muggle, Muggleborn, Halfblood, Pureblood, etc.) who purposely steals blood from any witch or wizard to gain their powers. Their blood is known to literally become a darker red each time they steal blood from a wizard until it becomes black, part of the reason they get the name ''Mudblood''._

She frowned. This person had a thing for helping her. And...was that actually the definition of a "Mudblood"? The subject still bit her. Not as hard as before, but it still did. At least the definition made it sure she wasn't actually a "Mudblood".

Then again, was this person just...playing with her. How did she know that this wasn't some silly prank?

But he or she was never wrong before.

It blanked, and then there was more text.

_Trust me, Hermione. Have I ever been wrong?_

It was as if they read her mind.

She rolled her eyes (over-confident arse, whoever this was) and wrote her reply.

_You only answered one question. I don't think that's too reassuring._

_One question correct. So no, I've never been wrong._

_I am _so_ going to kill this person._

She hastily grabbed at the parchment and began to write what the person told her.

After writing it, she realized she had about ten minutes left, so she leaned her head on her hand, propping it up and staring into space. She had a lot on her mind, and she doubted she'd be able to focus on reading a book at the time. And then there was Malfoy beside her, and she wasn't going to look through that notebook while he was there.

She felt something nudge her elbow, and when she looked over, Malfoy had his arms folded, head rested on top – the same way she did in the library. So he was done too.

As she looked around, everyone else was either chewing on their quill, head rested in their arms or staring at the page blankly. Hermione sneaked a glance over at Harry, Ginny, Ron and Foster, realizing that Foster was the only one who had put her quill down. She sat up attentively, ready for the next part of their lesson.

And then there was Ron and Harry, both chewing on their quills. Ginny turned around and looked at Hermione, surprise etched on her face for a second (probably _just_ realized Malfoy was sitting beside her) but her gaze flickered over to Hermione, confusion on her face. Hermione read her lips. "What do you think?"

Hermione couldn't quite answer that. As much as she wanted to, she'd seen enough of what Professor Morrigan could do if someone interrupted his thinking sessions. So she simply shrugged, doing her best to look as clueless as she did. Ginny seemed to have bought it, faking an exasperated sigh, then turning back to her work.

After ten minutes, Professor Morrigan stood up at the front. "Hmm...why don't we have some fun?" The grin was back on his face. "Write your name on your piece of parchment – ball, cube, animal, whatever you want – and throw it at the front of the class. Do. Not. Hit. Anyone. The only person you can hit is me. Let's say...another ten minutes. Go."

There were masks of confusion on people's faces for a few seconds. Many of the Slytherins were able to recover quicker than the others, and began making their parchment extremely unpleasant to have in your hand, let alone catch.

Hermione shaped hers into a little otter and enchanted it to walk. She didn't feel the need to throw it. On the other hand...

What was the harm in giving it wings? It could be...an angel otter. Hermione looked at it for a second. The otter tilted its head to the side, curious, but sat down obediently, waiting for Hermione to do something. Finally, with a wave of her wand, she enlarged the otter and with her wand, curved a few bits on the side to make wings. When she was done, the otter began to test them out, flapping them until it eventually _did_ begin to fly. Satisfied, she smiled at the little animal as it twirled in the air.

At some point, it flew to her left and landed on Malfoy's head and lay down on its stomach in his hair. He was still asleep. Hermione giggled a little too loudly, causing Malfoy's eyes to flutter open. He blinked a couple times, but his head didn't move.

"Granger?"

"Yes?"

"What...the Hell...is on my head?" he asked cautiously, albeit curious.

"A flying paper otter."

"A flying paper otter...? Huh? What are you- Gah!" The otter had detached itself from Malfoy's hair and flew right in front of his face, making Malfoy fall right out of his seat. Hermione couldn't hold her laugh. Many others began to look over at the strange sight, and there began to be laughs and sniggers. Malfoy seemed to ignore all of them, though. His eyes stayed glued on the otter. His legs were propped up on the seat, but his elbows were holding his upper body on the floor.

The otter flew down and almost looked apologetic. Malfoy frowned.

"Granger. Let me make something clear to you," he spoke extremely coherent, making sure she heard him. "There is a reason otters are not supposed to have wings."

"So something like that doesn't happen again?" she asked. She wasn't quite able to hold back her smile – she _was_ one of the students who laughed.

Malfoy raised a finger, still staring at the otter who was continuing its attempts at trying to say sorry.

"Precisely." Malfoy pushed himself up with his arms and managed to _just_ get into his seat without getting off of it completely. The otter stared at him with solemn eyes. "S'alright! Stop looking at me like that, I don't do the 'sad otter' thing," he grumbled, looking down at his own parchment. The otter's expression changed to contented and it flew over onto Hermione's shoulder.

"We're making something to throw at Professor Morrigan at the front."

"Oh really?" replied Malfoy, with slight sarcasm. "So, let me guess, you have that annoying trait above you that makes you feel _something_ for every living creature there is in this world, you decided to give that thing wings and get out of the _throwing_ things at the teacher bit, am I right?" Hermione frowned, but Malfoy ignored her. He picked up his parchment and scrunched it into a ball. Hermione and her otter watched him curiously as he took his wand, enlarged it like she had (but not as much) and began taking strands of the parchment, making them stick out until they formed...

"Wings," breathed Hermione. Malfoy smirked and threw the ball up in the air – he'd successfully created a Parchment Snitch. (Not _Golden_ Snitch, as Malfoy would probably argue, it wasn't _gold_, but _parchment_.) The blond leaned back with his hands behind his head, satisfied.

It flew around Malfoy for a moment before stopping. Hermione's otter flew up and looked at it, prodding the ball with its "paw".

"Alright class," spoke Professor Morrigan. "Let your..._creations_ come up to the front of the class." Everyone watched as their things went to the front, some of them flying, like Hermione and Draco's, while others were thrown. The ones that were thrown stopped in midair right in front of Professor Morrigan, as if a wall were created in front of him. He began petting Hermione's otter, which came straight up to him and landed neatly on his shoulder. "I will read these over. Until then, class dismissed." Hermione began packing her things.

"I don't hate you, you know," said a quiet voice. She turned to see Malfoy, packing his own things, an unreadable expression on his face. He didn't look at her. "Not anymore. Just thought I'd point that out." He stood up, slung his bag over his shoulder and walked off.

**A/N: Huh. Do you think Draco's OOC? I think so. What? It was _bound_ to happen sometime. Most Dramione stories will have an Out Of Character Draco Malfoy. And an Out Of Character Hermione Granger. I tried. I really did.**

**I know what you're thinking. _"Holy shit, did I miss something in the books? *gasp* Does the word "Mudblood" really have a different meaning?"_ No, you did not miss a thing. This idea popped into my head when I was creating my OCs. I made that up. But since this is Fiction...of a Fiction...you can take the "truth" and bend it a bit. That's all I did. Please don't kill me!**

The **8th** Chapter is called _"__From the Inside__"_ (by Linkin Park) and the song quote is :

"_Trying not to break, _

_But I'm so tired of this deceit. _

_Every time I try to make myself, _

_Get back up on my feet, _

_All I ever think about is this, _

_All the tiring time between, _

_And how trying to put my trust in you just takes so much out of me..."_


	9. Chapter 8: From the Inside

**A/N: 8th Chapter! :) From the Inside...wonder what that could mean? :O I'll tell you this...lots and lots of Draco/Hermione interaction. :)**

**Anyway, read and enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: Harry Potter is owned by JK Rowling, the song _"From the Inside"_ is by Linkin Park. All I own is the (ADDED) plot.**

_**From the Inside**_

**...***..**

Chapter 8

"_Trying not to break, _

_But I'm so tired of this deceit. _

_Every time I try to make myself, _

_Get back up on my feet, _

_All I ever think about is this, _

_All the tiring time between, _

_And how trying to put my trust in you just takes so much out of me..."_

_-__From the Inside,__**Linkin Park**_

Hermione sat down on a couch in the Room of Requirement, opening the notebook she'd received in her bag. Running her hand over the front of the book, the phoenix had once again taken yellow as its colour, and the text "Good day to you, Guardian of the Otter" came up this time.

She opened the book to see immediately, a signature.

_**MFTMBDR**_

She blinked. MFTMBDR? What did _that_ mean?. She brushed her fingers across the "title" and realized something as it also changed colour – someone seemed to have punched a couple of miniscule holes on the letters, one on each. Why they did that, she didn't know. Did it matter? The owner could've been extremely bored and decided to punch holes in it with their quill, or their wand.

But the holes were much too small for a quill or a wand. What did he or she poke it with?

She shook the thought away and turned the next page and saw it was a letter.

_To Snake,_

_Hope this helps._

_ -M.F.T.M.B.D.R._

_**Guardian of the Phoenix.**_

After reading the first page, she finally realized what the front meant – they were initials. This person wrote both his or her name, as well as the person they were writing it to with initials.

If that were the case, the owner of the journal had oddly long names. As well, the writing on the inside seemed far more legible than the one scribbled on the outside. _Two different writing styles? How strange._

This could mean one of two things.

First of all, if this _wasn't_ Fox Black's notebook and Hermione still wanted to work on this case, she would need to know more about who _MFTMBDR_ was. Or find Fox's real notebook.

Second, was if this _was_ Fox Black's notebook, then it was settled; "Fox Black" was a fake name.

She turned the page to see another letter, but it seemed to be to someone else.

_Snake,_

_Just pointing out a couple things. First of all, I am giving this journal to you. And to YOU ONLY. If you decide to give this responsibility to someone else, that's your problem. Not mine._

_You'll know it's you I'm talking to. If you don't, then I'm not talking to you._

_Enough of that. I'm wasting my precious time on you, and frankly, I don't fancy doing that._

_**-Phoenix**_

Snake? Who was that? And...what did they mean by "Snake" and "Phoenix"? Guardian...maybe the names were short for a Guardian? Like her...it said "Guardian of the Otter" on the front of the book. And then it said the book was signed by the "Guardian of the Phoenix". So if that was the intention, then...who was the "Guardian of the Snake"?

She turned the page and saw little smudges of writing on it, everything written in different capitalization techniques. As if the person was practising something. Confused, she read a couple.

_know what happens when you jumble up the letters in my name? you get ~ eldr disen carb sed kalbnim trackmot sem wasul rohf ~ sounds like some sort of faraway elf language, but it actually means nothing at all..._

_hOw PrOfEsSoR bUrBaGe ExPeCtS uS tO lEaRn AbOuT mUgGlE aRtIfAcTs AnD eLeCtRiCiTy WhEn ShE wOn'T lEt Us UsE aN iPoD iN cLaSs, I wIlL nEvEr KnOw..._

_Can't wait to leave this school..._

Then she came across something that stopped her quick look-through immediately. It seemed like a little poem. Or even...

_TO ANYONE WHO READS THIS:_

_FANCY A GAME OF CHESS?_

_I'LL SET UP THE BOARD._

_WHY DO I SPEAK IN RIDDLES?_

_I AM ONE._

...a riddle.

After looking over it for another moment, she finally decided to turn the page. Maybe there was more—

Ravenclaw styled parchment.

Blank.

Next page. Slytherin styled parchment.

Blank again.

_What's going on...?_

Hermione flipped a couple pages, all seeming to be blank once again. The notebook looked like it had its own pattern – Ravenclaw, Slytherin, Gryffindor, Hufflepuff – Frustrated, she was about to turn the page when she felt an extremely odd presence right beside her hea-

"Whatcha reading, Granger?" Hermione jumped and gave a yelp in surprise when she saw Malfoy leaning right over the couch, his head almost touching her shoulder. He smirked and jumped over right into the seat next to her.

Hermione stared, still in shock. She had to be honest, Malfoy scared the _shit_ out of her.

It was about a minute before Malfoy coughed. "Look, I get it. I am immensely attractive and _devilishly_ handsome. But your staring is getting a little...well..." Hermione turned away, blushing furiously. He laughed, causing Hermione to blush even further. Then the laughing stopped. She looked over at him, noticing his expression had changed drastically.

"You never answered my question. What are you reading, Granger?" he asked, softer this time. Hermione was taken aback by how he spoke. It was so...out of character.

"Err..."

"If it's one of those damn Muggle romance novels that all you women seem to be interested in, forget it, I don't want to know—"

"Um...yeah. Yeah, that's it. It's a romance novel, Malfoy, you don't want to know."

He stared at her, nodding slowly. Hermione was almost relieved because she thought she had him (she didn't want to show him the notebook, especially after his little round in DADA the day before) but she couldn't have been more wrong. He gave her a wicked grin and chuckled mockingly.

"You liar. You're reading that notebook again, aren't you?"

"How did you-"

"Well, first off, you're a terrible liar. Second, it's obvious. Third, that "romance novel" thing was a test. And fourth – you aren't making much of an effort to hide it." Hermione's eyes drifted down to the notebook, then back at Malfoy.

"There's nothing in it," she said. "It's blank except for the first few pages."

He raised his eyebrows, stood up and began walking around the giant piles of miscellaneous things, and he spoke as if he hadn't heard her. "The Room of Hidden Things...wasn't it destroyed?" he asked, amusement in his voice.

Hermione looked at him incredulously, debating on whether or not she should go with his subject change, or hex him into tomorrow for completely ignoring her. "No. It's here now, that would explain why it's in one piece. The Fiendfyre didn't destroy it," she said. Malfoy smirked.

"I suppose..." he chuckled. But it all left when he spoke next. "In a certain light, I guess you'd be correct."

Hermione's jaw dropped. _What?_ Was he actually implying that she was wrong? No...he merely meant there was another answer to his question. "What do you _suppose_ then? That this is some fantasy dream world and this room is a figment of our imagination?"

"Yeah, it could be," he said, taking off a small black box with green ribbon sitting in one of the piles in the open. "Or, it could have been destroyed, and decided to rebuild itself." He paused, a troubled expression on his face. He opened the box, taking the green ribbon off, and then he closed it again. Hermione wasn't quite able to register anything about it. He slipped the small box in his pocket. Hermione was very curious as to why he was taking it, but decided not to push it.

"Everything else was real, though," he continued. "I doubt the room would've been able to put together...everything..." He threw the box and began carefully climbing one of the piles. "So these piles could be figments of our imagination."

"And yet, you're climbing it," muttered Hermione. Malfoy turned his head in her direction and smirked.

"Probably." He turned and kept climbing. "So that would mean that, technically speaking, the room _was_ destroyed, but rebuilt. Making you...for a lack of a better word, _wrong_." Hermione decided to ignore the comment. But he continued, changing the subject.

"Though, despite that, don't you find it a little..._peculiar_, that you didn't get Head Girl this year?" he asked, turning his entire body around and half sitting, half holding onto a large chair that had two of its legs stuck in the pile. One of his legs was on the chair, the other was dangling off the edge, but he didn't seem the least bit bothered by how insecure his position was, nor how high he'd climbed. Malfoy regarded her with curiosity.

Hermione was taken aback. "What?"

"I mean, isn't it rather odd you didn't get that position? A Head prefect?"

She furrowed her brows. "I...suppose so. Why do you care?"

Malfoy averted his eyes and shook his head. "I don't trust _either_ of our Head prefects this year. Err...I obviously don't trust the Weasel...and Foster...that's hard to explain."

Hermione rolled her eyes and was about to retort about his comment on Ron when she noticed something else he said. "Wait a minute – you don't trust Foster?"

"Last name basis, hmm? I suppose you don't trust her either?"

"No I don't...it's like...there's something about her..." she trailed off. There was a pause.

"Yeah," said Malfoy. "My thoughts exactly." They shared another moment of silence before Malfoy turned and began to climb again.

"What in Godric's name are you doing, Malfoy?" He didn't stop. Just continued climbing. Didn't even answer.

At least not exactly.

"Stop thinking logically, for once, Granger. You're welcome to join me." Hermione stood and walked over to the pile, her hands on her hips, notebook thrown back onto the sofa. Malfoy was at least twenty feet above her now. His head turned to the side and his eyes rested on something. She watched as he reached over and plucked a box – exactly the same size as the other one he took, but with yellow ribbon – off the pile and threw it down to her. It landed at her feet. "Mind opening that for me?"

"Why should I trust you?" she asked, frowning. Malfoy smirked at her.

"That, my dear...is a good question." He climbed higher, until he reached the top where there sat a black cushion chair. He sat on it like a king, while resting his elbow on arm, head in his hand, contemplating something and not quite looking at her either. "I guess you shouldn't trust me. Then again, as your _precious_ Muggles would say..." His frown turned to a smirk. "...'twas curiosity that killed the cat."

Hermione blinked. True, she _shouldn't _trust Malfoy, of all people, especially if whatever was in the box was some sort of joke and there was Zabini hiding behind one of the many piles of lost, hidden and completely forgotten items. That was probably the case.

But she was also curious. What the Hell was _in_ this box? Must be important. Or not. She had no way of knowing unless she looked inside. Strange...when did Malfoy start thinking this way? This wasn't the normal Malfoy she knew and well...knew. Sure, he was smart, just as smart as her in fact – but he seemed to have upped his conversation/bickering skills a bit. It was as if...he was cornering her in a really difficult spot...and especially difficult to get out of.

Oh what the Hell – what was the harm?

She heaved a defeated sigh and picked up the box. She could just _hear_ him smirking up at the top of the pile of items. Deciding to ignore him, she opened the box and in there sat—

"What...?" She looked back up at Malfoy. He was still smirking.

"What is it, Granger?"

"A...it looks like a...an otter...? Pendant maybe? Yeah, there's the little ring at the top..." She cautiously picked up the gold (probably _real_ gold...it seemed to weigh a ton!) otter and placed it in her palm. It glowed bright yellow and there in the otter's open hands appeared a lone pearl. She looked back up at Malfoy. His smirk turned to a frown...but there was curiosity in his eyes.

"What are you playing at, Malfoy?"

"Nothing. This isn't a game, Granger." He slid off the chair and began climbing down, much quicker – keeping his gracefulness – than he did while climbing up. He walked over and looked at the pendant. "Hmm. Well, I guess it likes you then." He began to walk away toward another pile of items.

"Wait!" cried Hermione, walking over. He didn't wait. But his head inclined somewhat in her direction, as if to show he was listening. "What did you mean by 'I guess it likes you'?"

"Huh? I don't know what more to say. It _likes_ you. That's all there is to it."

"How do you know that?"

"That is for me to know and for you to not dwell on." She groaned in frustration. She went back to the sofa, slipped the pendant back in her pocket and began going through the notebook again. Still nothing. What was this "Guardian of the Phoenix" playing at? Did they die before they wrote anything for their _dear_ "Guardian of the Snake"? What did "Guardian" mean anyway...

Suddenly, the door to the Room of Requirement opened and in stepped Harry, Foster, Ron and Ginny, faces mixed with surprise and relief that Hermione was in there.

"Hermione!" called Ginny, jogging over. "We looked all over for you! Bloody Hell, we thought you were in the library!"

"I'm alright, Gin, why do you look all worried? I'm fine." Hermione decided to ignore the fact that Foster didn't have at all the same expression as her friends. In fact, she wasn't even looking at Hermione. Her gaze was up higher, pointed up at Malfoy.

"Malfoy! What a pleasant surprise!" she called, a little too cheerfully. Malfoy raised his eyebrows. He'd found another seat on the top of the pile, though, this time it was on top of a table that was angled inwards, so he couldn't fall off.

Harry, Ron and Ginny seemed to have just realized the Slytherin was there. Malfoy sat nonchalantly, relaxed.

"What are _you_ doing here, Malfoy?" demanded Ron. Malfoy's gaze turned to regard the redhead.

"Sitting. Nice view up here," he replied, smirking. Rather uncharacteristic for him, he didn't continue with a sneer and an insult toward Ron. "Although, I'm rather interested in why your girlfriend is talking to me." Ron's face turned beet-red.

"I don't see how that's any of your business," replied Foster.

Malfoy snorted. "Really? Is this what you do now, Weasley? Switch from Muggleborn to Muggleborn?"

"Come on guys," said Hermione, pulling Ginny's elbow. She wanted to leave before anyone should start a fight. "We should go."

"Oi! Granger!" called Malfoy. Hermione turned and looked at him as if to say, "What?"

"Don't forget that," he pointed to the discarded notebook on the couch. Hermione went over and picked it up. She looked up at him for a second, catching his eye and his quick hand movement as he began patting his robe pockets. Malfoy raised his eyebrows, stood, and began climbing down the other side of the miscellaneous pile.

"Well, that was odd," said Harry, still looking over at where Malfoy had been. He turned to the others. "C'mon."

They began walking out of the Room of Requirement, and Hermione's hand subconsciously went to her robe pocket and began patting it, just as Malfoy had. She had just remembered at that moment, that the otter pendant was still in her pocket.

**A/N: And...we start to learn how this story got its name. So...who's the Guardian of the Snake? Hah, I'm not saying. :P**

**So happy I decided to look over this chapter before posting. I found _so many errors_! A lot of them made the story seem inconsistent.**

The **9th** Chapter is called _"__Crash and Burn__"_ (by Simple Plan) and the song quote is :

"_I never wanted to believe that you could lie, _

_That friends deceive, _

_And here I stand I'm still the same, _

_I watched you change, _

_You won't come back. _

_I wonder what it's like to be like you, _

_To never really care how bad it hurts, _

_So go ahead and lie and keep moving on, _

_It's all about yourself and you're never wrong, _

_I'll watch you crash and burn..."_


	10. Chapter 9: Crash and Burn

**A/N: 9th Chapter! Yay! I actually have the next ten chapters written...just looking them over. :)**

**I'm happy a lot of people are starting to like this story! It's 'a lot' to _me_ anyway. I get I don't really answer reviews...sorry 'bout that, but thank you! It's making me excited! :D**

**This Chapter's kind of...meh. I had fun writing in some parts, then there were a few others when well...meh.**

**Read and enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: Harry Potter is owned by JK Rowling, the song _"Crash and Burn"_ is by Simple Plan. All I own is the (ADDED) plot and the Ocs.**

_**Crash and Burn**_

**...***...**

Chapter 9

"_I never wanted to believe that you could lie, _

_That friends deceive, _

_And here I stand I'm still the same, _

_I watched you change, _

_You won't come back. _

_I wonder what it's like to be like you, _

_To never really care how bad it hurts, _

_So go ahead and lie and keep moving on, _

_It's all about yourself and you're never wrong, _

_I'll watch you crash and burn..."_

_-__Crash and Burn,__**Simple Plan**_

Potions was uneventful. Strangely enough.

No. Ever since he'd gotten his Dark Mark off, he'd been feeling strange. Taken off? No...that wasn't it. It was different. More like..._modified_. Replaced.

The new mark seemed to...make him understand things better. Like his emotions were heightened. He could anticipate things. And he didn't feel completely..._Slytherin_-like. How odd.

He supposed it could make things easier for himself. Most things. The Patronus charm was one of them. Dementors couldn't quite affect him as bad. He was told to test it out, he had nothing to do with wanting to walk up to a Dementor and hope he didn't get kissed. The only downside was that he had to relearn Occlumency. His emotions were stronger...and a lot less controlled. Made Occlumency hard.

At first, when he had the Dark Mark changed, the effects were immediate. He could feel...more. If that made any sense. Emotions of all sort were mixed together, and he felt like he couldn't hide anything anymore. It hurt, of course, having it all. But what stood out were the emotions.

The one, _single_ emotion he didn't seem to feel at that very moment – was fear. _How odd...? _Yes, because why else wouldn't he care if Voldemort came and tried to kill him? That's how long gone he was. No, he'd send someone else – someone far less capable. He felt superior, arrogant – he could beat whoever the Dark Lord sent his way. No, fear had left his body at that moment. It was still there, obviously, but it was as if Draco himself had poisoned it temporarily...slowly dying.

"_...but to be brave, you first had to fear. Fearlessness and bravery are related, but there __was a reason they were two different words..._" The words that someone had told him. The one who took his mark and gave him...this. He wasn't even sure what it was called. Just...a mark.

As he was getting the mark, it wasn't like the Dark Mark, where it was just simply burning pain – the same you would feel if summoned. No, this one tapped into your mind...as the man had described to Draco, "_This procedure...well...I'm pretty sure it will feel like I've just mind-fucked your head, no wait..._mind_...yeah, that's right— no, don't look at me like that. You wanted this mark off, and this is the only way._"

He wasn't going to deny that he felt as if he were on some sort of hangover afterwards – depression kicked in after, as if some sort of withdrawal from the tattoo's ecstasy.

This emotion shit. It made Potions class a little off. If a potion smelled strange in any way, he would be bombarded with memories and sentiments – half of which he didn't even know he possessed. He was just happy this class (most classes, he was rather happy that this was the case,) didn't have Amourentia, which would _really_ do something for his feelings.

As the class was dismissed, Draco was once again out of his seat in a flash. He didn't have to look behind him to know that there were watchful, curious eyes on him. There was also a pair of eyes that weren't curious, but more...nervous. And he knew exactly who they belonged to.

Granger. He'd been watching _her_ lately, not the other way around. Probably his straight-forwardness the last couple of days. From the look she'd been giving him all class (yes, he noticed), he knew she still hadn't figured out what they were talking about in the Room of Requirement the day before. Draco smirked. The girl was smart and all, but he knew for a fact that she wouldn't figure it out for a good...24, 48 hours? At most a week. Enough time to figure out how to get into her head, just as he had with that Lovegood girl.

_Her brain would have to turn off completely for her to not figure it out after a few days,_ thought Draco after mulling the idea over a few times in his head.

The other pair of eyes belonged to Foster. They'd met over the summer holidays, through a...mutual friend, but he knew there was something wrong with her. Something unseen. Somewhat unfazed. And she knew that he knew her secret. The thing she was going to try and _keep_ a secret until the right moment. And that was when he'd bring it into the light.

She was very good at hiding it, however. Draco knew she had a secret, but no one would believe him. No one...

_But Granger_, he thought. She'd seen it too. She was smart enough to see past that. _Obviously. Not named "Smartest witch of the age" for nothing_.

He turned the corner – and ran right into Blaise.

"Oi! Son of a bi- oh. Hullo, Draco," he quickly corrected himself. Draco wasn't in as much a foul mood as he was the _last_ time he'd run into Mr. Zabini in front of him, so he didn't snap. Instead, he slowly nodded, sidestepping and walking around Blaise, jerking his head slightly. The Italian got the message and turned to walk beside him.

As confident as Draco was with the knowledge of his surroundings, he didn't realize the Golden Trio themselves were just rounding the same corridor. There were many students in the hall, it wasn't all too surprising he didn't recognize them. Besides – he was in a conversation with Blaise, so why would he care if Potter, Weasley and Granger were there? It wasn't even important...

"'Mione, I still don't think it's a good idea to use or – bloody Hell, you shouldn't even be carrying that around!" exclaimed Ron. "I mean, _Malfoy_ gave you that otter...thing. How can you trust him?"

"Oh, Ronald. I am pretty sure I'm supposed to...somehow...link that pendant to the notebook, for it to show me anything. It called me a 'Guardian of the Otter' and the pendant has an otter on it. What else is there not to understand?" She paused for a moment. "And did I say I trusted Malfoy? No I didn't!"

"Hey, guys, cool it. I think that's a good observation, Hermione. But...be careful. I get Malfoy hasn't been quite himself – no, what am I kidding, he seems completely mental! I'd be _extremely _careful if I were you. Everyone's against him. Who knows when he'll snap."

"Harry, stop it," replied Hermione.

"No, I won't," Harry continued. "Why was he allowed back at Hogwarts? Especially after – _that_ incident. And him being a Death Eater. There's no doubt he still is one, with Voldemort still out there. Something's up. Again."

"Harry, will you-" she stopped. _Speak of the devil_.

Malfoy and Zabini were a little ways ahead of them, seeming to be talking casually. Harry gave Ron and Hermione a look before speeding up (making sure to conceal himself behind a couple other students) and attempting to listen into their conversation.

Hermione gave Ron the same look and followed up behind Harry. Judging from Ron's face after seeing both Hermione and Harry walk ahead to go spy on Malfoy, she was guessing that he was probably going to go off and find something better to do.

A lot of their conversation was muffled, but Hermione was able to catch a small bit of information that could lead to some more.

"About bloody time you told me what you were up to mate," said Zabini. He spoke a little loudly (to the benefit of both Harry and Hermione), gaining him an elbow to the ribs.

"Keep it down," hissed Malfoy. "I don't need _everyone_ to hear."

Harry turned his head to look at Hermione, mouthing, _So he _is_ up to something!_

Zabini looked troubled. "How is _that_ supposed to change anything though? What's your problem? You've been acting so strange lately." He paused, as if contemplating his next words. Then, "Are you actually planning on not showing up to Quidditch tryouts?" It was whispered, but loud enough for Harry and Hermione to hear. Malfoy shrugged, nodding slightly, unfazed.

Well. _That_ was helpful. In something else. Still not what they were looking for, but Harry was rather surprised by Malfoy not wanting to play Quidditch this year. Less competition. Great. If _that_ was all that he was up to, though, it really wasn't much.

Zabini laughed halfheartedly. "You – you're joking right?"

Malfoy frowned. "No. I'm not. Far from it, actually."

"No way, mate. The Draco Malfoy _I_ know wouldn't give up Quidditch for anything. How do you suppose we're to beat Gryffindor and Ravenclaw in the Final this year?"

Malfoy snorted, most likely at how Hufflepuff was left out of the conversation. "Honestly, I don't really give a damn. I wouldn't have _time_ for Quidditch this year anyway. Far...far too much going on in my head."

Zabini paused for a moment. "What's going on in your head, Draco?"

Malfoy shook it off. "It's nothing. Too hard to explain."

That was an indication that Malfoy not showing up to the Slytherin Quidditch tryouts wasn't what he was up to. No, it was most likely something much bigger.

Just then, there was a _SLAM_! down the corridor. Both Harry and Hermione began to rush down to see what was going on. Hermione vaguely heard Malfoy mutter "Bloody Hell..." before going to check it out as well (followed by a, very reluctant, Blaise Zabini).

"I didn't do anything, I swear!" they heard someone cry, making them go faster. It wasn't just them. There seemed to be a lot of people who had their heads turned toward the commotion.

"I know you did it!" screamed a very familiar voice. "I know you tried to trip me!" Goyle. Gregory Goyle was yelling at a boy who was...probably in his Third Year? A Hufflepuff too...

Goyle was with Nott and Parkinson. They were watching him with amusement.

"What? No! No I didn't! I swear I... You – you probably – it was – your friend dropped his book! You tripped over that! I didn't-"

"Stop lying!" screamed Goyle. He kicked the kid in the shins and the Hufflepuff fell. There was a groan that came from him. Goyle pulled his leg back as if to kick him again. Hermione was about to scream at him to stop when someone beat her to it.

"Goyle!" yelled Malfoy, walking up to him with an authoritative stride. Goyle stopped mid-kick and looked at his former friend. Hermione couldn't quite see his face, but from the look in Goyle's eyes and the fact that he tensed up, Malfoy probably looked murderous.

"Mal-" He didn't have enough time to finish because Malfoy had pushed Goyle, making the goon stumble. He was definitely _not_ expecting that.

What _Hermione_ didn't expect was that Malfoy had taken Goyle by enough surprise that he didn't just stumble a few steps – he was pushed straight into the wall.

Goyle himself now looked as furious as Malfoy had a couple seconds ago, but if the blond man noticed, he didn't show it. In fact, he didn't seem to be looking at Goyle at all at the very moment. He was shaking, head bent and staring at nothing in particular. If anything, his gaze was to the floor.

Hermione looked over at Harry, who seemed in just as much shock as her. Whether it was the reactions, or because Malfoy had _just_ saved a Hufflepuff from a _Slytherin_, she wasn't sure.

Without warning, Malfoy shook his head vigorously before turning and pushing past Zabini down the corridor. Hermione watched as Parkinson followed him, calling, "Draco! Wait! I can explain!" to his retreating back. _Explain what?_ wondered Hermione.

Hermione turned to look at Harry again. He was watching Malfoy and Parkinson, as if to check on which way they were going. Zabini went to Goyle and Nott, arguing. Hermione once again glanced over to Harry, when she saw him walking down to follow Malfoy and Parkinson. Hermione went to follow.

They ended up just outside of an abandoned classroom. Harry was just about to open the door when Hermione grabbed his wrist and made a slight movement with her head. As much as he wanted to go in there and see what was going on, perhaps just listening in would work in a situation like this. Besides, Harry and Malfoy in a room alone, both with wands...memories of Sixth Year came back, something no one wanted to be reminded of.

They both gently pressed their ears on the door, attempting to hear as much as they could.

"What the fuck, Parkinson!" growled Malfoy. His voice was low and dangerous, causing Hermione to shudder.

"Draco, what's going on? What happened back there?"

"I can't explain."

"What do you mean, 'you can't explain'? It's not every day that I see you defend a _Hufflepuff_, let alone a Mud-"

"_Don't say it!_" hissed Malfoy, his voice cracking slightly at the end. "Don't...say it."

There was a pregnant pause, Hermione felt her breath caught in her throat.

"What happened to you?" asked Parkinson, in a whisper.

"I...nothing. Nothing happened. Are you really that daft? Look at me – I'm still Draco Malfoy."

Another pause, and the way Malfoy spoke his next words were deep, low and...cryptic.

"You know," he forced some sort of laugh, but it seemed harsher than he intended, "someone told me something over the summer. More like asked, really. A test." He hesitated, but continued. "He asked me if I would kill a Muggleborn – at the time, I suppose it was Mudblood – without a second glance? During the war..._this_ war...would you have done that?"

"I...er...suppose so?" said Parkinson, uncertainly. Hermione stiffened but felt Harry's reassuring hand squeeze on her own. She couldn't help but squeeze back.

"That's what I said." Hermione could just _hear_ Malfoy smirking. "And now? Would you kill, say, Granger?"

"Well...no. No, I wouldn't."

There was – once again – Malfoy's amused, yet, strained laugh. "But then," he added, his voice going back to cryptic, "he told me a scenario. A Mudblood guardian, watching over a Pureblood child, no older than a couple of months. Who would you kill, if you had to? Had the choice, I mean."

"What? The Mudblood, obviously," said Pansy, without a thought.

"Sure, I guess," said Malfoy, his voice faltering again. "I said that too. But if you kill the Mudblood, you killed the child, because there is no one else to watch them. And who else knows what bloodline they have?" he asked, his voice gradually rising. "Who else bloody cares?"

He spoke so dangerously now. He was angry. No, more than that...she couldn't quite put it to words. Hermione had goosebumps and needed to concentrate in order to keep her feet planted where they were. "Who else _bloody cares_ whether or not you, or someone else wants to get the truth out of me? I'm not talking, and nor are you. If you value your life so much, so much that you'll even _think_, about putting some sort of friendship on hold to save your backside, you'll stay away from me."

"You don't understand! You should've seen them! I couldn't even tell who was talking to me, they had a hood up, they were going to kill us or _worse_! You know _exactly_ how that feels, Draco, don't deny-"

There was a sort of rustling noise, as if Malfoy had grabbed Parkinson, and by the way she whimpered, it was probably by the robes. "That's enough evidence to agree with what he told me next, Parkinson, and it applies for you apparently – _You're no different_." There was a noise of a table being pushed, and Parkinson gave another yelp, more of surprise than pain.

Hermione and Harry got off the door and hid beside it, praying that Malfoy didn't see them. As the door was pushed open, smashing into the wall, (Hermione was glad at this point that they chose the other side of the door to hide behind) they watched as the man in question stormed out, oblivious to the two eavesdroppers.

Parkinson came out next, a blank expression on her face. She didn't glance to the side as she walked in the other direction – away from Malfoy.

**A/N: So. We got a chance to look inside Draco's head a bit. What a confusing head...I barely understood while I was writing it. I had to continuously look over my notes to understand it. Notes of FUTURE CHAPTERS. I EXPLAIN NO MORE. :)**

**Lol Pansy fell for that little thought. I'm not sure if she really would...maybe...I probably would've... :P**

**I was actually going to take that part of the dialogue out, but seeing as the rest of the dialogue seemed to flow into it so nicely, I decided to leave it.**

**Long song quote, wait for it...**

The **10****th** Chapter is called _"__Downfall__"_ (by Trust Company) and the song quote is:

"_Here I stand, _

_Hold back so no one can see, _

_I feel these wounds, _

_Step down, _

_Step down, _

_Step down. _

_Am I breaking, down? _

_Can I break away? _

_Push me away, _

_Make me fall, _

_Just to see, _

_Another side of me. _

_Push me away, _

_You can see, _

_What I see, _

_The other side of me. _

_Fall back on me, _

_And I'll be, _

_The strength I need, _

_To save me now, _

_Just come, _

_Face to face with me..."_


	11. Chapter 10: Downfall

**A/N: Chapter 10! :) Sheesh...took up eight pages in OpenOffice. Granted, a lot of it was the change in paragraph, but...meh. :P**

**Now this Chapter was fun. I kept going over it in my head while going on a walk...or to school...that's generally my planning area. It's where I get my inspiration. The faster I walk, the faster the events seem to go.**

**The poem/prophecy is my creation! It isn't something I took off the internet, no – if you look it up, you probably won't find it. Hmm...may want to keep this poem/prophecy in mind. It could come in handy. ;)**

**Kay, in my doc, the underlined bit while they are looking over the poem was highlighted. I underlined the bits that were highlighted, but when you're reading, think of them as **_**highlighted**_**, not **_**underlined**_**.**

**Read and enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: Harry Potter is owned by JK Rowling, the song _"Downfall"_ is by Trust Company. All I own is the (ADDED) plot and the Ocs.**

_**Downfall**_

**...***...**

Chapter 10

"_Here I stand, _

_Hold back so no one can see, _

_I feel these wounds, _

_Step down, _

_Step down, _

_Step down. _

_Am I breaking, down? _

_Can I break away? _

_Push me away, _

_Make me fall, _

_Just to see, _

_Another side of me. _

_Push me away, _

_You can see, _

_What I see, _

_The other side of me. _

_Fall back on me, _

_And I'll be, _

_The strength I need, _

_To save me now, _

_Just come, _

_Face to face with me..."_

_-__Downfall,__**Trust Company**_

The bell rang, signalling the beginning of Defence Against the Dark Arts class. Well...what _would_ be the beginning.

_If Professor Morrigan knew what _'on time'_ meant, it would be,_ thought Hermione, rolling her eyes. Malfoy wasn't in class yet. She felt a rush of both relief and...was that disappointment? No. No, of course not. And besides, would he-

There was a slam of books down on the seat beside her, and was it? Yes, there was the blond hair – Malfoy had gone to sit beside her again. Odd, she thought it would be a bit awkward, especially when she watched him blow up on Goyle the day before. He should've known – she wasn't really hiding it. It definitely _was_ awkward, there was no doubt about that, but Malfoy didn't seem bothered. He simply took out his yellow quill again and began to twirl it in his fingers absentmindedly, staring up at the door to Morrigan's study.

It didn't necessarily mean _Hermione_ wasn't bothered by the uncomfortable air.

Eventually, the late Professor came out, a grin on his face, a twinkle in his eye. "Morning!" he called, brightening the mood up considerably.

He walked down the steps and toward the front of the classroom. "Just to clarify, I'm still looking at a couple of papers. Some are quite...well done. There are a few that are _tremendously_ close, and a few, well..." he paused for a moment, frowning and furrowing his brows. It seemed a little humorous, therefore a few giggles and snickers in the class. The grin and twinkle were back on his face as quick as they left.

"_Anyway_, I'm not quite done looking them over, but I assure you, I will get to it by, oh...next class or so." He nodded. Multiple times. Then he raised a finger. "Today, why don't we look at some literature? No, don't look at me like that – it was bound to happen at some point. Maybe not." He furrowed his eyebrows again in deep thought, but continued. "We will be deciphering...a Hogwarts prophecy. Very old, this story. More like a poem, really, but interesting, nonetheless." He made a motion with his fingers – much like one would use to taunt someone for a fight – and a small stack of parchment flew into his hand. He waved his index finger, and one piece fell in front of each pair of students. All the while, the whole class was watching him in awe. _Wandless magic,_ thought Hermione, impressed.

"As old as the first story itself is old, the prophecy and the written bit isn't that old. Only a few years, really. I will give you a moment to read it over, then I will tell you your assignments. Keep in mind, this is a _real_ prophecy."

She rolled her eyes and leaned over the piece of parchment, already starting to read what was on it. In the corner of her eye, she saw Malfoy doing the same thing.

A Fox's Downfall

_Listen close and listen well,_

_Learn the tale of a dark, dark spell._

_Though magic origin the charm may be,_

_No need for such tricks in the bloodstained key._

_Friend of a snake and lion, eagle and badger,_

_A fox quick and cunning as any one snatcher._

_Ally she may seem, fair she may sound,_

_When one is caught, they are forever bound._

_Foolish the snake when it once began,_

_Unwise choices, the poor blind man._

_Knowledge he gave of the dark black art,_

_Clouded by emotion heavy in his heart._

_Betrayed the four in a sinister time,_

_Stolen treasures she did, a terrible crime._

_From the heart, the soul, and within the mind,_

_A drop of blood in the dirt left behind._

_Care not did she, for her four found friends,_

_No pain as she watched their bitter ends._

_Like a vampire, with great power and thirst,_

_And barbaric it may seem, will not be the first._

_Through the cloud, a fog, an unforeseeable mist,_

_We'll find a power, forever hidden within six._

_Taught lessons though young, from a prophet with his own,_

_Thrown into battle, to make sure the fox is overthrown._

_The first already with great fortune and fame,_

_Has seen far too much and will not be the same._

_Despite bravery and skill, strength, skin and bone._

_Cannot finish this final, fatal task all alone._

_Let it known they are loved from the best friend's sibling,_

_No doubt they'll take part together against the greatest of duelling._

_With friendship and loyalties, the lover's fire ignites,_

_To keep peace and trust so the group may fight._

_But love unrequited that was never foreseen,_

_As one begins to wonder what it could ever mean._

_They fight, strong and hard, against those once their superiors,_

_Never again feel small, powerless and inferior._

_It's brains against brawn, as one would say,_

_But a fool would state they only go one way._

_Though intelligence is a key to great success,_

_One needs to go further if they wish to see the rest._

_Another has seen further, in a different sort of fashion,_

_Without knowledge and thinking, but friends and devotion._

_However many souls in their family they must defend,_

_Unfortunate this hero will be the one to meet his end._

_Five have spoken, however one has not._

_For they hold an evil black lie, one four have bought._

_Beware, as they betrayed their side,_

_Same with the fox, as they're an ally denied._

Hermione sat back. _How confusing could you get?_ She shook it off, then glanced at Malfoy. He was twirling the pen again.

"What do you think?" he asked. His voice was a little raspy, as if either, he hadn't used it in a while, or he had a pretty rough night. She couldn't quite tell.

Her head snapped back to his question when he glanced over at her, eyebrows rising. She cleared her throat. "Err, well..." she thought a moment. Her own eyebrows furrowed. "It's rather confusing."

Malfoy smirked and looked back down at the parchment. "I suppose so." Furrowing his brows and adding, as if he had just thought about it, "If _you're_ finding it confusing, I suppose it'll be my job to make sure we don't fuck up this assignment, huh?"

"Now to the analyzing!" cheered Morrigan before Hermione could answer. "You are to take out a piece of paper, write down the verse that you are assigned, and then write down anything that comes to mind. Point form, if you will." He scratched his chin, as if contemplating something. "Well, since we have partners..." he paused again. Then he snapped his fingers and pointed to Hermione and Malfoy. "You two! Malfoy and Granger, you will analyze the first verse..." he continued to point to other groups. "Potter and Weasley Female, you'll work on the second one...Weasley Male and Foster, how about the third..." He continued on, and as the students watched, the blackboard behind him began writing down what everyone was responsible for.

1 - Malfoy & Granger

2 - Potter & Weasley F

3 - Weasley M & Foster

4 - Finnigan & Longbottom

5 - Patil & Patil

6 - Goyle & Nott

7 - Parkinson & Zabini

8 - Abbott & Finch-Fletchley

9 -

10 -

11 -

12 -

_Small class,_ thought Hermione, absentmindedly.

"I'm guessing Parkinson and Zabini made up?" whispered Hermione to no one in particular.

"Yeah, probably," answered Malfoy, absentmindedly. There was an edge to his voice, most likely indicating that he wasn't necessarily forgiving Parkinson anytime soon.

"Anyone want to do the ninth verse?" asked Morrigan, looking around. Hermione vaguely saw Malfoy look at the parchment again at the corner of her eye and watched as he shook his head.

"We'll take it," she heard Harry say. Hermione was secretly proud of her brother-like friend. He wanted to do some extra work! It may have had something to do with Ginny as well though, but she didn't want to worry too much on that.

"Alright then! Potter and Weasley F on number nine!" The board wrote the pair beside the number "9".

"Any takers for number ten-"

Foster raised her hand up to the ceiling in a Hermione-like way. Hermione herself had to bite her lip in order not to say anything extremely nasty. She saw Malfoy raise his eyebrows. He smirked after hearing Ron groan about doing extra work.

"Of course," said Morrigan, not losing his sunny behaviour. "Number eleven?" No one raised their hands. He scanned the room until his eyes rested on-

"Zabini and Parkinson! How about you two work on number eleven, hmm? What do you say?"

"No," said Parkinson, immediately.

"Aw. Come now, look, the board is already writing your name on itself." And sure enough, it was, but it seemed to have paused when Parkinson said her blunt "No."

"Let's not hurt its feelings, waste its time and make it frustrated. It may want to fling itself on the wall. Things in this room have feelings too you know..."

"Alright, it's fine, we'll take it," said Zabini. _Nice save... _Parkinson shot him a glare, but said nothing.

"And finally, any takers for number twelve?-"

Malfoy looked critically over at Hermione, who shrugged.

She wasn't quite ready for the way Malfoy decided to voice the matter, however.

Malfoy smashed his fist on the table and shot his hand in the air. "We'll take it!" There was a short silence, but Malfoy didn't seem to notice. He looked far too determined for that.

"Sure thing, Mr. Malfoy! Are you alright with that, Ms. Granger?" he asked, although, he sounded as if he was going to give them the task, whether or not she was fine with it.

Of course, her answer was, "Oh, I'm fine with that."

"Excellent!" The board finished writing their names, and then Morrigan began to speak again. "Alright, you are to write notes, let's say..._at least_, bare minimum of, err...two thirds of a roll of parchment. Deal?" There were a couple murmurs in the classroom. "You'll have time to work on it now, of course," he said, matter-of-factly. "Consider this as a miniature project. Now off you go. Get started. We wouldn't want to add this to our homework list – I've heard many stories of Professor Snape and his notoriously horrible essays that he assigns..." That got everyone working.

"So, Granger..." said Malfoy, turning in his seat so he could face her more. "How are we going to do this?"

"Well..." she began, a little taken aback by the tone of his voice. It seemed...friendly. Was that even possible for a Malfoy? "We could both write the verses, one each, I'll write the notes and you'll analyze. Does that work?"

"Now hold it. I'm not doing _all_ the thinking."

"Fine then. I'll think _and_ write notes," she replied, frustrated. He gave her a toothy grin.

"That works quite well, actually."

Hermione nodded while rolling her eyes, took out some of her blank parchment and began writing the first one. Malfoy did the same, but wrote the second.

_Listen close and listen well,_

_Learn the tale of a dark, dark spell._

_Though magic origin the charm may be,_

_No need for such tricks in the bloodstained key._

Hermione glanced over at Malfoy's parchment, finding her eyes widen as she looked.

_Five have spoken, however one has not,_

_For they hold an evil black lie, one four have bought._

_Beware, as they betrayed their side,_

_Same with the fox, as they're an ally denied._

"Something wrong?" asked Malfoy, innocently. She blinked. The handwriting looked oddly familiar...

"No, nothing at all," replied Hermione, flashing a grin. He looked at her skeptically, he definitely knew she was bluffing, but he made no note of it. Instead, he looked at her parchment.

"Anything you notice?" he asked. She looked at it hard.

"Well, I suppose the prophecy is about, er, well...dark magic," she spoke, while writing it down. He chuckled, grinning widely.

"I never would have noticed," he stated, sarcastically. "'Listen close and listen well, Learn the tale of a dark, dark spell'? Is that where you get it from?"

"Don't mock me." It only made his grin wider. Hermione went to the next two lines. "'Though magic origin the charm may be, No need for such tricks in the bloodstained key'." She looked at him expectantly. He raised his eyebrows.

"What are you looking at _me_ for? You're the know-it-all-"

"I'm not doing this on my own, you know!" she snapped, going back to look at the lines.

"Fine," said Malfoy, taking the piece of parchment and sliding it over toward him, earning himself a grunt of protest from Hermione. "Well, you'd better be listening, because I'm not repeating myself." Malfoy took his yellow quill and underlined three words. When he underlined the words, however, Hermione watched as the ink began to bleed out on the word, highlighting it with yellow.

_Learn the tale of a dark, dark __spell__._

_Though magic origin the __charm__ may be,_

_No need for such __tricks__ in the bloodstained key._

"They could all mean the same thing," he said, looking at her triumphantly. Hermione was in awe, from both what he noticed, as well as his quill.

"Yeah...I imagine it makes sense," she replied, a little peeved that he noticed that before she did.

Just to show her exactly how high his ego went, he added, "No round of applause, just making sure we don't _fuck up_, like I said before." He feigned indifference, but there was a ghost of a smirk playing on his lips.

Rolling her eyes, she took her own quill and began to write the observation down. After she did, she stopped, looked slowly over to Malfoy and asked, "Do you...have any more of those quills?" Smirk still on his lips, he began digging into his bag, taking out three more of the quills and placing them on the desk. Green, blue and red. _House colours_.

"Where'd you get them?" she asked, picking up the red one and looking it over.

"Weasley's shop. They sell the strangest things," he said. She looked at him oddly, but he didn't notice. He seemed to be looking off somewhere else. Hermione cleared her throat.

"Well, _interesting_ items, nonetheless," commented Hermione. "I don't approve of the majority of the things they sell there. Speaking of which – do these quills do anything else?"

"No. They just make the writing pop out more. And they don't need ink."

"Why do you use the yellow one? I thought you hated Hufflepuff."

He raised his eyebrows, as if just realizing this. "I do. Yellow does a better job than the others though. Green and blue are too dark, and I obviously would stay away from red. I have a reputation to keep, and writing with a red quill..."

"Oh." Hermione took the parchment back and began to look at the last line. Something hit her then, and she looked back at Malfoy.

"'Spell'? 'Charm'?" He looked at her, clueless for a moment, but when he looked back at the parchment, he blinked.

"'Tricks'..."

Hermione took the red quill and drew a line underneath a few more words, watching as the red ink began to bleed onto them, just as the yellow did.

_Learn the tale of a dark, dark __spell__._

_Though __magic origin__ the __charm__ may be,_

_No need__ for such __tricks__ in the bloodstained key._

"'No need'...'magic origin'...so that would mean..."

"You don't need magic to use the spell," finished Hermione. They both looked at each other for a second, then Malfoy furrowed his brow.

"Well write it down!" He sounded hasty, either by excitement or he actually _was_ frustrated.

"Err...of course..." replied Hermione, taking her quill (not the red one!) and writing what she found. When she looked up again, Malfoy had highlighted another part, this time in green:

_Learn the tale of a dark, dark __spell__._

_Though __magic origin__ the __charm__ may be,_

_No need__ for such __tricks__ in the __bloodstained key._

"The key to the spell is dark magic, yet, you don't need magic. That would mean that a Muggle or a Squib could use the spell, but in doing so, they'd be using dark magic. Don't know how _that_ would work..." Malfoy seemed to have said the last bit mostly to himself, but that did not mean Hermione didn't catch it. She nodded her head and wrote it down. He scratched his head. "Damn, that was confusing."

They worked more on this for a while, before moving onto Malfoy's verse. He'd already decided to highlight quite a few things, each in different colours. Hermione was – in all honesty – quite thrilled that he picked up the red quill. Gave her some courage to pick up the green one later on if need be.

_Five have spoken, however one has not,_

_For they hold an __evil black lie, one four have bought._

_Beware, as they __betrayed their side__,_

_Same with the fox__, as they're an __ally denied__._

Granted, he _did_ highlight "ally denied" with it, but did that really matter? He used the red quill!

"Definitely _not_ a friend," he said. "An ally on the outside...to have fooled four out of five. Impressive."

Hermione was scribbling the notes down, and before they knew it, they had about the right amount to say they had finished, and more. Hermione put down her quill and looked around, interested in everyone else's progress. No one else seemed to be done.

"Alright, class!" called Morrigan from the front. "This will be due in a few weeks! I expect a lot of information with the amount of time I've given you. In fact, this shall be put down in _essay form_. For now, the class is dismissed!" The groans from the rest of the class were inevitable.

Hermione began to pack her things. She turned to Malfoy and asked, "Are you taking-"

But he wasn't there. And nor was the parchment. The _prophecy_ was still there, but not him, nor the notes. She frowned. _Maybe he's adding more notes...? Or he's planning on working on the essay. I'll need to find him so I could look over it when he's done...whatever he's doing. Huh, guess I'm not actually doing this on my own, then._

She stood up and left, but as she walked down the corridor, something – a thought – hit her. She began to reflect on it. _The handwriting...The Weasley's shop...odd behaviour...same class...library..._ She gasped. That was it. The answer!

Hermione rushed up to the Gryffindor Tower, putting her bag on a lone table and going through it. _Ah ha!_ There it was. The Note-Passer.

She put it down on the table, took out her quill and wrote on it.

_Are you Draco Malfoy?_

Hermione waited a minute, and she felt her breath get caught in her throat as she read the answer she got.

_About time, Granger._

**A/N: About time indeed, Hermione. :P Well, Draco was making it rather obvious...ha ha.**

**Grr! I want to redo my prophecy, but...too...lazy...lol**

The **11****th** Chapter is called _"__This Notebook__"_ (by Dropout Year) and the song quote is:

"_I'm gonna write in this notebook you never get to read through, _

_With phrases that I took from conversation with you, _

_And throw them in the air with the possibility these will be the words that you'll someday sing. _

_I only hope you're listening..."_


	12. Chapter 11: This Notebook

**A/N: Sheesh. Haven't updated in a while. I think...I've had this sitting alone and dusty in my laptop (is that possible...? They should have some sort of application on computers or something that changes files that haven't been opened in a while to look all dusty and old and everything, then all polished and clean when they have been) still unedited. Wow, rereading this chapter I realized how silly it sounded. Hopefully, I edited correctly. ;)**

**Yes, I realized that my prophecy looks rather see-through, reason why I wanted so _badly_ to rewrite it. But looking over it again, it actually turned out well for future events. So, I won't be changing any future plans for the story, whether people think they know the ending or not.**

**Read and enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: Harry Potter is owned by JK Rowling, the song _"This Notebook"_ is by Dropout Year. All I own is the (ADDED) plot and the Ocs.**

This Notebook

Chapter 11

"_I'm gonna write in this notebook you never get to read through, _

_With phrases that I took from conversation with you, _

_And throw them in the air with the possibility these will be the words that you'll someday sing. _

_I only hope you're listening..."_

_-__This Notebook,_ _**Dropout Year**_

Hermione was walking toward the Great Hall the next morning. Saturday. No classes. She began to go through a run through of things she could do that day. _Homework...Library...watch the Gryffindor Quidditch Tryouts..._ Quidditch Tryouts! She completely forgot!

She still groaned slightly however. Quidditch. Definitely _not_ her favourite sport. Not even in the _running_. But she had to go. For her friends_._

Hermione walked into the Great Hall and met up with Harry, Ginny, Ron... _Foster._

"Hullo, Hermione," said Foster, smiling broadly. Hermione managed a stiff nod and sat across from Ron and Foster, beside Ginny. Harry was on the other side of her redhead best friend.

"Hey guys," said Hermione, grabbing a piece of toast. Ginny greeted with a "Hi, Hermione!" and Ron looked quite jittery. She had a feeling why.

"Don't worry, Ron, you'll do fine." Ron gave Foster a smile, then dug right into his food.

Foster beat her to say what she was thinking. Hermione had to look away before she screamed in frustration. Who did this girl think she was? Trying to replace her or something?

Mistake.

Hermione's eyes ended up drifting off toward the Slytherin table, where they met with-

_Green?_ She squinted to grasp a better look at them, but Malfoy blinked and – once again – they went back to their silver appearance. She tilted her head and he gave one of his signature smirks, but without the malice. He was sitting beside Zabini, who had watched their eye exchange with...either amusement or confusion. Or both. _Annoying pricks_.

Hermione shook her head and went through her bag, pulling out her Arithmancy book and opening it up to page 246 – where her Note-Passer lay. She took her quill and began to scribble on it.

_What are YOU smirking at?_

She watched as the ink bled away. When Hermione looked up, Malfoy already had his Note-Passer out. He raised his eyebrows, the smirk widening. He took out his own quill and began to write in it. When he stopped, she waited a few seconds before looking down.

_You're going to watch the Gryffindor Quidditch Tryouts, right? The Slytherin Tryouts are afterwards, so we can talk there. Bring the notebook and the pendant._

She looked up in confusion, but he seemed to have already put his Note-Passer away and was talking with Zabini, who kept turning his gaze toward her and her friends. _Still, I stand corrected – annoying pricks_.

She closed her Arithmancy book and turned back to her friends, attempting to get into their conversation.

**...***...! #$%^&*()_+...***...**

Hermione was watching the Gryffindor tryouts when she felt someone tap her elbow. It was odd to have someone poke there, and not the shoulder, so when it happened, Hermione jumped and spun around to see a grinning Draco Malfoy.

"Malfoy! What-"

"Do you have the notebook?" he asked. "And the pendant?"

Hermione nodded slowly, a little taken aback. She reached into her bag, taking out the notebook and handing it to him. He took it gingerly and began flipping through the book. He didn't seem all too surprised that there was nothing in it.

Next, she took out the pendant from her pocket, but when she went to hand it to him, he didn't take it. "I think it's best if _you_ held it," he said, motioning with his head that she should keep it in her hand. She was puzzled for a moment, but shook it off.

"So, what am I supposed to do, Malfoy?" she asked, tilting her head ever so slightly. He smirked at that.

"You think it'll be that easy?" Hermione crossed her arms and looked at Malfoy with a raised eyebrow. His smirk widened. "It will be, but riling you up before doing something like this is always fun."

"Just...help me out here."

"Alright, alright..." replied Malfoy, shaking his head. He held the notebook, examining it like it was some sort of treasure he found. Hermione watched him. After about a minute, he began to run his index finger across the head of the phoenix. For a second, Hermione thought it glowed yellow, but it was gone as quick as it came, turning to green once more.

"Right there," whispered Malfoy, sounding slightly awestruck. He wasn't talking to Hermione. More to himself it sounded.

"Right where?" asked Hermione. Translation: _Explain_.

"Right here. C'mon," he said, sitting down and patting the seat beside him. Hermione followed. Malfoy held the notebook, not by the sides, but underneath. If Hermione decided to flip the book of his hands, it would be an easy task. He motioned with his head. "Put the otter on the head."

Hermione hesitantly placed the otter on the top of the notebook. The phoenix's head glowed yellow, and Hermione gazed with amazement as the otter came to life, placing the pearl on the forehead of the phoenix. The pearl glowed gold, and sank in (yes, as in, _inside_) the notebook. The otter, looking satisfied with the effect, coiled itself back into its original form. Hermione's eyes widened, and she looked at Malfoy. It seemed to have the same effect on him. But, as per usual, the look of astonishment – if it was even there in the first place, now that she thought about it – was gone as quick as it came.

Malfoy ran his hand over the cover, noticing that now only the body seemed to turn green at his touch, not the head. It was as if the yellow was now permanently etched on the head. He gingerly opened the book, and now in the place of the blank parchment, was now blue-lined and quite fancy. A sketched, Ravenclaw emblem was in the bottom right corner.

The rest of the pages were now blue with the Ravenclaw emblem at the bottom. As small as the book seemed to be, it looked to have an unlimited amount of paper as Malfoy flipped through it. As complete as it looked, Hermione couldn't fathom the fact that there was most likely more to it.

Text showed up on the first page, and Hermione noticed it was the same handwriting from the two beginning letters:

_Ah! What beautiful wonders come across this extremely exuberant and jolly old scribbler! Greetings, young Otter._

"Who is that?" she asked him. He looked thoughtful for a moment, then shrugged.

"I've no clue. Maybe...do you have a quill?"

"Yeah..."

"Write something. Ask it who it is."

She furrowed her brows. "Why can't you?"

"The quill won't work if I do it. Look, give me that." He stuck his hand in her cloak pocket, giving a satisfied grin when he found a quill in there. He began turning it over a few times, pulling out a scrap piece of parchment from his own pocket and nodding when he figured the quill didn't need ink to work. He then began to make an attempt at drawing a line on the blue parchment, only to find nothing come out of the quill.

Hermione took her quill back from Malfoy, (a little suspiciously) the same time he gave back the quill. Their hands momentarily touched and Hermione felt...extremely odd. She wasn't sure what it was. Ignoring it (albeit wondering if Malfoy felt it too) she began to write her reply.

_Who are you?_

It was a moment before she got an answer.

_Bah! Where, pray tell, are my manners? The appellation, to which I am normally referred to by the Master himself, is Eagle, my dear. _

"Eagle?"

"Ravenclaw animal. Merlin Granger, haven't you read _Hogwarts, a History_, what...a hundred times?"

"One hundred and _one_. And I knew that! It just took a moment to sink in, that's all..."

"Sure, Granger, sure..."

_I descry an...acquaintance in your miniature party._

Malfoy, either not noticing what the notebook had written, (or completely ignoring it) fished through his pockets, pulling out a vial. Written on the label was, "_Life's a game. Advice comes in riddles, but that's why it's such a difficult game. The riddle contains the instructions._"

"I found this," he said, handing it to Hermione, his face troubled. "I think it's Black's memory." What was he...?

Hermione widened her eyes and was about to open her mouth to speak but Malfoy put a hand up to silence her. "No questions. I just know and I had my ways." His hand lowered, and his eyes drifted over to her. They were green again for a moment, but they changed back to grey as quick as they came. He changed the subject, and it scared her by how..._off topic_ his choice was.

"Gryffindor plays Ravenclaw first this year, correct?" She was also surprised with his topic. What an odd question to come from a Slytherin.

"I'm pretty sure..."

He looked off onto the pitch, watching the Gryffindor players soar through the air. "Ravenclaw's got a new Seeker," he stated plainly. Hermione was about to say something again, but he cut her off. "Tell Potter to watch his back." He turned and left her there in the stands without another word, nor another glance back behind him.

**...***...! #$%^&*()_+...***...**

After the Gryffindor tryouts ended, Hermione left to wait in the Gryffindor Common Room for Harry.

It would probably be a better idea to give the flask containing Fox Black's (apparent) memory to Harry. She was quite curious (understatement!) to see what was in it, but she would be disciplined – she would wait for Harry. If this was something that could help him with defeating Voldemort once and for all, it was only fair that he be one of the first to watch it. _One of the first. I have no doubt Malfoy's already seen this. Whether he says he _thinks_ it's Fox Black's memory or not._

Malfoy. How odd he's been acting lately.

He wasn't his normal self for one. Sure, he was still an arrogant prat (or at least, she was sure that was still how his thought process continued to work) but he'd never _once_ this year called her a Mudblood. Come to think of it, he hadn't said it much at all this year. Maybe with Zabini or something while she wasn't around.

But Malfoy would _never_ miss an opportunity to annoy her, and calling her a Mudblood was probably the best way to do just that. What made him change? The war?

Somehow Hermione doubted that was the reason at all.

Even as she thought about his little..._episode_ with Goyle, Parkinson and the rest, she still wasn't fully convinced that he didn't at least _think_ about using the word.

As she held the notebook in her hand, she felt it...heat up. Not strong enough for her to recoil in shock and pain, but enough to notice it. As she looked down, the phoenix head glowed, and so did the first page in the book. Carefully, she opened the book and saw more writing on the parchment, underneath everything else that was written.

_I wish to dispatch a small commentary my dear girl. An epistle of great concern. If you so desire to hearken, I will endeavour not to let you feel contrite about my ramblings._

Hermione frowned. Nevertheless, she took out a quill and wrote a reply.

_Go on._

She realized there wasn't much paper left for them to write on. The next page glowed, and as she turned it she realized there was more writing on the next piece of parchment.

_You keep curious company._

They continued to speak, their conversation going something like this:

_Your point?_

_I am currently expressing my regrets while I am in possession of this information I would like to touch up on. No matter who they are now, nor who they claimed to be then, I find it drastically unwise to commend your faith in just anyone._

Pause. The grammar wasn't exact. Thinking for a moment over her conversation with Malfoy, she thought...Malfoy...

_Are you talking about Malfoy?_

_Maybe. Perchance, I mention someone else on this lucky tome? Names are far too soon passing and transient for one, such as yourself, to truly realize who your rightful enemy is._

Just then, Harry came in. He greeted her with a pleasant "Hello", to which she gave an answer of jumping while yelping in great surprise. She slammed the book shut, mentally telling herself to apologize later. It was a book, but it still was alive...and it was a book.

Harry blinked by her, slightly taken aback by her surprise. "You alright?"

"Harry!" squealed Hermione. She was squeezing him rather hard now. It was probably to distract him from his question – and it worked, mind you – but in reality, she wasn't quite sure why she jumped at him.

"Yes?" he asked, absentmindedly rubbing his arm.

"Igotfoxblacksmemory!"

"You...what?" Harry looked genuinely confused. Hermione took a minute to realize she'd been so excited, her words had been jumbled. She took a deep breath, trying to calm down.

"I. Got. Fox. Black's. Memory," she said, emphasizing her words very carefully. Harry's eyes widened.

"How'd you do that? I couldn't even figure out who 'Fox Black' was, now you turn up with, what looks like, _his_ memory."

"I..." How was she supposed to answer this? Tell him she got it from Malfoy? But then that would give away the fact that Malfoy and her had met up, and it would _also_ state that he'd seen the tryouts. She decided to go with Malfoy's excuse. "I...I have my ways." _Wow. It sounded a lot less lame coming from Malfoy._

It did. Harry looked sceptical, but nonetheless, he hesitantly took the flask from Hermione's outstretched hand. "Err...c'mon. Let's go show this to Professor Dumbledore."

**A/N: Phew. This chapter was hard to...word correctly. Aye, I don't know if my grammar's right. Had to reread and reread again.**

**Read _Hogwarts a History_ 101 times? I don't think it's impossible, especially for Hermione, seeing as I have a friend who read the whole _Twilight_ series 32 times in the span of a few months. **

The **12****th** Chapter is called _"__The Sound of Silence__"_ (by Simon and Garfunkel) and the song quote is:

"_And the people bowed and prayed, _

_To the neon god they made, _

_And the sign flashed out its warning, _

_And the sign said, _

'_The words of the prophets are written on the subway walls, and tenement halls', _

_And whispered in the sounds of silence..."_


	13. Chapter 12: The Sound of Silence

**A/N: 12th Chapter. Yay. :)**

**_Eeep!_ Don't kill me! Seriously, I thought I posted this already. _Sooo_ sorry! **

**Hmm...what to say. Not much Dramione in this, just be warned. Next chapter, hopefully. Which will be following this very shortly...**

**Slight mention of someone stumbling upon a _Twilight_ book in the library. There's also a small _Star Warts: Knights of the Old Republic II _reference in this chapter.**

**Read and enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: Harry Potter is owned by JK Rowling, Twilight is by Stephanie Meyer, Star Wars: Knights of the Old Republic is by Bioware and Lucas Arts (I think?), the song _"The Sound of Silence"_ is by Simon and Garfunkel. All I own is the (ADDED) plot and the Ocs.**

_**The Sound of Silence**_

**...***...**

Chapter 12

"_And the people bowed and prayed, _

_To the neon god they made, _

_And the sign flashed out its warning, _

_And the sign said, _

'_The words of the prophets are written on the subway walls, and tenement halls', _

_And whispered in the sounds of silence..."_

_-__The Sound of Silence,_ _**Simon and Garfunkel**_

The two walked down the corridors in search of their Headmaster. They got to his study quickly, but realized that they weren't the only ones going in.

Or out.

Harry pulled Hermione behind a suit of armour just as Professor Dumbledore, Professor Snape and Professor Morrigan came out of Professor Dumbledore's office. The two realized they were unable to get out of their hiding spot without being seen. Another obstacle was the fact that just as the three Professors left the office, they continued to stand just outside of the door – or gargoyle. It seemed all they could do was eavesdrop again.

"The Dark Lord is getting stronger, _Morrigan_," said Snape, looking pointedly in the other man's direction. There was a certain edge with his voice that Harry, nor Hermione couldn't figure out as he spoke Morrigan's name. "Do you truly think he cares if he loses any of his followers?"

"Depends if I'm there or not," replied Morrigan, glaring at the Potion's Master. "I worked hard to get his attention _and_ trust, what did you do?"

Snape was about to bite back when Dumbledore spoke. "Enough! This is not the time, nor place to be speaking of these things."

There was a pause. Finally, Morrigan spoke. "Albus is right. We'll continue this discussion at a later time." Before either of the two Professors could talk, Morrigan left with a swish of his cloak, not looking back to see if they said anything. He was coming toward where Harry and Hermione's hiding spot was, but if he noticed them, he paid no mind as he passed.

Snape turned to Dumbledore. "Can he be trusted?"

"As if _you_ can," whispered Harry, hotly. Hermione made a gesture telling Harry to shut up.

"Of course. And if not, Voldemort would be a fool to rest his own faith in him."

"Then we are fools," replied Snape. Dumbledore continued to look impassive.

"Perhaps we are, Severus. Perhaps we are."

Snape didn't look satisfied with Dumbledore's answer. Even so, he turned on his heel and walked the opposite way that Morrigan did. Dumbledore watched Snape, but what he said nearly made the two secret listeners' jump. "Harry, Hermione, the coast is clear. You may come out."

Though, that may have been part of the intention.

_How did he...?_ "It's Dumbledore, of course," whispered Harry. He lead the way, standing from his crouched and _extremely_ uncomfortable seat behind the armour. Hermione followed suit, not feeling any better than he was. They slowly walked over to the Headmaster.

"Good evening," he greeted, as if the conversation hadn't happened. There was a twinkle in his eye, however, that looked at them knowingly. "I suspect the Gryffindor Quidditch tryouts went well?"

"Oh, yes, splendid," replied Harry, hurriedly. He pulled out the flask from his pocket. "I – we – found this." Dumbledore took the flask and began to examine it. Harry continued. "It's supposedly Fox Black's memory. Revised."

Dumbledore's eyes moved back to Harry and Hermione. They shifted from both students, then he went to the gargoyle statue in front of his study. He beckoned the two to follow, and they didn't hesitate to oblige.

They stepped into the room and walked straight over to the Pensieve. Once the Headmaster poured the contents into the silver disk, all three plunged their heads in, and they were immediately immersed in the memory.

_Harry was in Diagon Alley again. He saw the Malfoy family, with Fox. All seemed the same. Each movement, any touch, every word...until Fox ran into the girl._

_She wasn't the same. This time...Aura was it? Yes, Aura had much darker hair than Harry remembered. It was nearly black, but he could see that it was actually just a really dark brown. It was also shorter and thinner, curling up slightly. Her eyes were grey. And unlike before – where they were blue and innocent – no, she didn't look quite innocent at all._

_The words were the same, as well as the voices...until..._

"_Keep it," she said, waving off Fox's attempt to give it to her. He frowned darkly._

"_Why should I keep your notebook?" _

_Aura rolled her eyes. "Touch it with your wand."_

"_What?"_

"_Your. Wand." She sounded demanding now. It was scary that someone so innocent before could sound like this. Fox didn't pause at all when he took out his wand and tapped the front of the leather notebook. It glowed six colours – blue, red, green, orange, purple and yellow – before molding into a leather phoenix._

_Fox abruptly shut his eyes tightly, as if he were in great pain for a second. But as quick as he did, he opened them and looked unfazed. Sort of._

"_How could a _Muggle_ such as yourself be in possession of something like this?" He sort __of..._spat_, the word "Muggle" out at her. It didn't quite bother her much._

_Hold up...she was a Muggle? How...odd._

"_I have my ways...I never caught your name."_

"_Fo— no. What's yours?"_

"_Aura Seymour."_

"_You're good at lying. I like it," he said, a little seductively. Despite that, there was slight malice in his voice. "My name is Fox Black."_

"_You also lie," pointed out Aura._

"_Hah," replied Fox, no humour whatsoever. He also looked...surprised. As if he weren't quite used to people knowing who he was. A _Muggle_, figuring it out too couldn't mean anything good. "No one is normally so quick at reading me. But if I told you my real name, you'd run off. Any _Muggle_ that hangs out in Diagon Alley would."_

"_I bet not."_

_Fox smirked. "Tell me yours, and I'll tell you mine."_

_Aura seemed to ponder for a moment. Finally, "Whatever floats your boat. My name is Zara Gardner. Now tell me yours."_

_Fox's smirk turned into a shark-like grin. It was cold, and somehow mixed with...a snake? _

_But before said anything, the scene changed._

_The scene changed to, what seemed like, Third or Fourth Year class. They were in Defence Against the Dark Arts, and Professor Quirrel was teaching._

"_Any q-q-q-questions, c-c-class?" _Always stuttering,_ thought Harry._

_Fox, who was sitting around the middle, off to the right of the classroom, slammed his fist on his desk and raised his hand. Quirrel pointed at him._

"_Y-y-yes, M-Mr. Black."_

"_Sir, is it true that vampires sparkle?" Quirrel's face seemed to turn bright red. There were snickers and chuckles in the class. Fox continued. "I err...came across it while reading. And I didn't fully understand it."_

_Harry blinked. The way he said it...was familiar._

"_D-d-detention, M-Mr. Black," said Quirrel, very _nearly_ missing his cue to stutter. Harry remembered who he _really_ was. And that _real_ him didn't stutter._

_The scene changed again, this time in Malfoy Manor._

"_Why do you keep talking about her, Draco? It's not like you have any interest in her," said Fox, sounding rather irritated. His nose was scrunched up in what seemed like disgust and he was sitting in a rather fancy room, on an _extremely_ large and fancy cushion chair. Across from him on a, not-nearly-as-fancy-couch was Draco Malfoy. The blond seemed to be eleven or twelve, while Fox was about thirteen or fourteen._

"_Of course I don't 'have an interest in her'," spat Malfoy, toying with his wand but not making eye contact with Fox. "Why would I? It's her fault I got in trouble with Mother and Father today."_

"_About your grades?" snickered Fox, a smirk to rival any Malfoy's coming across his face. "I'm surprised you left that conversation unscathed. If Uncle Lucius knew what she was, you would get in much bigger trouble than that."_

_Malfoy gave a look of confusion. "Father wouldn't beat me."_

_Fox snorted. "No. But he's strict, I'll tell you that. I read people, Draco, you should start doing the same." He paused and looked around. "_My_ father would probably kill me though, if he found out I had lower grades than someone like _her_."_

"_What? What is she?"_

_Fox leaned in as if he were telling someone the juiciest secret in the world. "She's a Mudblood!" he whispered._

_Malfoy seemed pretty surprised. He whispered, "She's a...a Mudblood?"_

"_Yeah. Didn't I just say that?" Fox's smirk suddenly turned to a scowl. Harry could tell he didn't like repeating himself._

_Malfoy looked thoughtful. Then a sneer went across his features. "Aren't you Halfblood? Don't you not care?"_

_Fox sneered. "_I'm_ not supposed to care. But I know my mother does. I never met her, but I know she's in Azkaban right now. And my father? He's dead. He was a Halfblood."_

_The scene changed, showing Fox – a much older Fox, probably now in his Fifth or Sixth Year – sitting in one of the Hogwarts corridors. He was leaning on the wall, elbows resting on his knees and looking extremely troubled. His gaze wasn't focused on anything, in fact, he seemed to have a faraway look in his eyes._

"_Twenty points from Ravenclaw for being out after hours," drawled a voice down the hall. Fox jumped, seeming to have broken his reverie._

_The boy stood up, attempting to compose himself, brushing off dust from his robes. He seemed genuinely surprised. "P-Professor Snape," he stuttered, not from fear it seemed, but more like the unanticipated encounter._

_Snape raised his eyebrows. "Do enlighten me, why would someone, such as yourself, try and look everywhere possible to lose points for his house?" Fox opened his mouth, probably attempting to make a coherent rebuttal, but Snape got their first. "And do enlighten me further, Mr. Black, why is it whenever I find you, you are always playing a game of chess—"_

"_I'm not—"_

"—_in your head?"_

_Fox, while having a frown on his face only a moment before, sneered, "So _nosey_ people don't know what I'm thinking about. I have to say, Professor, the description of 'nosey' describes you quite well in more ways than one."_

"_Why you insolent little—"_

"_Severus," spoke a voice behind Fox, surprising them both._

"_Headmaster," nodded Snape. Fox quickly turned around to address him in the same manner._

"_It's very late, Fox," said Dumbledore, his eyes twinkling. "Perhaps it would be a good time to be off to bed."_

_Fox narrowed his eyes slightly and regarded the Headmaster with great caution. Finally, he nodded his head and walked off._

_The scene changed again and they were back in Diagon Alley._

"_...Now tell me yours."_

_Fox had his shark/snake-like grin on, and Harry felt his breathing get caught in his throat with the next thing he heard Fox say._

"_Riddle. My name is Morlus Riddle."_

The three of them – Harry, Hermione and Dumbledore – all came out of the memory at the same time. Their expressions were the same. Fox Black's true name was Morlus Riddle. _Riddle_.

"Sir?" asked Hermione after a while. "Did you...did you know...?"

"No, Ms. Granger," replied Dumbledore, shaking his head. He seemed as shocked as he was when he found out that Voldemort had been creating Horcruxes. "I never knew he had a son."

"A _son_?" questioned Harry. "How is that possible? They could just be, I dunno...sharing a last name?"

"Perhaps. But it is far too coincidental for this boy to have been with the Malfoy family, while sharing the same name as Voldemort. It may seem he wished to have an heir. But with the Horcruxes he created, I doubt that was his main intention."

"But I mean...wouldn't you have known, Professor? That 'Fox' was 'Morlus'?"

"No. An inkling of an idea, yes, but I remember an unusual amount of magical power residing in Fox. There were many deep secrets he hid, not even I could understand him fully."

There was another pause. Then Dumbledore continued. "I will speak to the others about this. Well done in finding it, you two. Well done."

Just as the two were about to leave, Harry turned and decided to ask Dumbledore his question. "Is Voldemort really getting stronger?"

Dumbledore didn't say anything at first. Then, "As much as magically possible."

Harry and Hermione left after that. When they stood outside, they took a moment to think about what they heard.

"Why wouldn't Dumbledore have known who Fox really was? This is troubling..." mumbled Harry.

"Harry," Hermione began, gulping. H turned to her. "Do you think he maybe...since he was creating _Horcruxes_, while having _no_ plan of dying..."

"Go on."

"Maybe. Maybe he wanted someone as his right hand man. Someone he could trust _fully_."

Harry thought for a moment. Eyes widening, he spoke. "He didn't...Lucius Malfoy was his right hand man before. But if he needed someone _else_...a blood relative, then...then does that mean...?"

Hermione nodded and finished what he was going to say.

"Voldemort was planning for his son to replace Lucius Malfoy. The fact he had a reason to demote him was an added bonus."

**A/N: Hah. So, as you've guessed, Fox (or Morlus now,) stumbled upon _Twilight_ while reading. Whether it was in the Restricted Section or not, is up to you.**

**Hope I got the gargoyle thing right. And Dumbledore. Yes, I know he would've been able to read Fox. BUT there is a reason he couldn't...**

**Cookie to you if you can find the slight _Knights of the Old Republic II: The Sith __Lords_ reference in this one! ;P**

**Don't kill me for lack of Dramione in this chapter! More Draco/Hermione moments in the next few chapters (I think...I'm pretty sure.)**

The **13****th** Chapter is called _"__The Catalyst__"_ (by Linkin Park) and the song quote is:

"_God save us everyone,_

_Will we burn inside the fires of a thousand suns?_

_For the sins of our hands,_

_The sins of our tongues,_

_The sins of our fathers,_

_The sins of our young,_

_No..."_


	14. Chapter 13: The Catalyst

**A/N: I think I know why I thought I posted that last chapter. See, I finished editing it but that was back when I didn't have any internet connection for a while. Once again, I apologize.**

**_Anyway_, here's Chapter 13. :) I had to keep redoing this Chapter...don't really like it to be honest...I wasn't completely sure what to word out and what not to. Hopefully, I edited correctly. Oh, and I'm not sure if the Witch Hunts were during or before the Four Founders. Let's pretend it was around the same time.**

**Read and enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: Harry Potter is owned by JK Rowling and the song _"The Catalyst"_ is by Linkin Park. All I own is the (ADDED) plot and the Ocs. Oh, and "Paturtles" are mine. New spell is also mine.**

_**The Catalyst**_

**...***...**

Chapter 13

"_God save us everyone,_

_Will we burn inside the fires of a thousand suns?_

_For the sins of our hands,_

_The sins of our tongues,_

_The sins of our fathers,_

_The sins of our young._

_No..."_

_-__The Catalyst,_ _**Linkin Park**_

"I have to say, class," began Professor Morrigan, holding a whole whack of parchment in his hand. "You have some wild imagination thing going on."

There were chuckles across the classroom, as Morrigan began circling the room. He glanced down at the papers, then flung the majority the air. Once he did, they all flew down to specific people. They looked at the parchment, and Hermione was sure they had just received what they wrote down about...that subject from last class.

It took Hermione another moment to realize she wasn't given hers.

Malfoy'd decided to sit beside her in Defence Against the Dark Arts. Again. This was getting repetitive. Why was he doing it though...?

Morrigan still had a small pile in his hand. He shifted them in a manner on his hand so everyone could see how many were there. In all, there were five.

"These," he motioned to the pieces of parchment he was holding, "are assignments containing the correct answer." He began to flip through them, saying names of the eight students. "Brenna Foster..." He paused a second before continuing. "Hermione Granger, Blaise Zabini..." A few students turned their heads to look at the Slytherin in the back, who shrugged, saying something that suspiciously sounded like "I guessed."

Morrigan looked at him sharply, before looking at the last two. "Seamus Finnegan—" Seamus jumped up from his seat, pumping his fist and saying "YES!" all at the same time. The class burst out laughing. Hermione rolled her eyes. _He probably guessed too_...

"...and Draco Malfoy." The class stopped laughing. They turned to him, who only raised his eyebrows. _Of course,_ thought Hermione. _He was the one who sent the that note, __err..._those_ notes during class. It would only make sense if he'd gotten the answer correct._

"Well done, you five. My, after that class we had, I was doubting _any_ of you would get the correct answer." He laughed, then clapped his hands, turning serious. "But the subject 'Mudbloods' is not what one should consider a laughing matter. It is actually much more serious than you'd think." He paused, as if contemplating his next words. "Even after the war from last year, it is still much more than you'd think it was. Than _they_, thought it was." He seemed to turn his gaze to nothing in particular, either that or the floor was all of a sudden extremely interesting. There was silence in the room for a while.

Morrigan's eyes flew up to the class again, his expression not changing. He was still looking at them grimly. "We're going to be learning a new spell."

Hermione heard Malfoy shift uneasily in his seat. That was puzzling. It was as if he already knew what he was going to say.

"First of all, the answer to the question I asked – a Mudblood is someone, _anyone_, be it a Squib, a Muggle, a Pureblood wizard, who voluntarily steals magic from another witch or wizard."

Hermione's hand shot up in the air, and he motioned for her to ask her question. "Sir," she began, "if what you say is true, would that mean you wouldn't necessarily need magic to use the spell?"

Morrigan smirked. "Good observation, Ms. Granger, to which I answer – you are absolutely correct." He cleared his throat.

_So that could mean the spell used in "The Fox's Downfall" was most likely this "Magic Stealing" spell. Sounds like a curse to me...why haven't I heard of it before though—_

"But, Professor, how would that be possible?"

"A very good question. Because of the nature of the spell, it just so happens to be somewhat based off of Muggle magic – no, don't laugh – Muggles used to believe in magic many years ago, back before they believed in so called, 'modern science'.

"Now the spell is a little more complicated than simply Incantation-plus-swish-and-flick-shoots-spell, so I'm going to write everything on the board as I speak." He looked to point his finger to the board but paused midway. "This isn't staying on the board and I'm never repeating it, nor do I want anyone else to either. This is extremely dark magic, and I suggest those of you who want this a part of your notes to not simply sit there like a bunch of Paturtles and copy what I write."

"Paturtles?"

"Oh. Right, well, Mr. Finnegan, I heard from a young girl by the name of 'Lovegood' say that a Paturtle is a magical, invisible and extremely lazy creature that tends to stick to people who sit around and do nothing. Apparently, they make them particularly sluggish in their movements and they could also make the person fall asleep." There were chuckles around the room at this.

Hermione had already taken out a piece of parchment and her quill at the start of class. In the corner of her eye, she saw Malfoy taking out some parchment, but he did it lazily, as if he didn't really feel he needed to be taking any notes about the lesson.

"Now, you all know the Four Founders," Morrigan began, making swirling motions with his hand while the chalk was writing. "I believe many of you also know who Vana Vulpslurk is...at least...those of you who _paid attention_ while I was _talking_ to them about it." There were a few guilty looks around the class. Many of the Slytherins snickered.

"Vana Vulpslurk was a Muggleborn witch who lived in the same time as the Four Founders. Her Patronus was a fox, which she was very fond of and decided on naming it after her Muggle sister, Cani. She was very good at seeing the future – if that's even possible – and she was originally going to be the first Divination teacher here at Hogwarts—"

"Yes, but a major accident had her seeing the light rather than the mist of that crystal ball. I would say poor girl, but don't quite feel sympathy for her." Morrigan had his back to the students, so he missed the confused looks he got from the class. As if sensing them, he continued. "She was one of the very first Muggleborns in Europe. And she loved magic. Enough to want to take it from other witches and wizards."

He turned, effectively showing the students the board while he continued. "Vulpslurk found a spell that would effectively steal magic from other witches and wizards. Yes, thinking of the idea of such a spell would be, possibly, a good idea for certain magic folk to win against their foes. However, it is not that simple.

"What I have here, written on this blackboard, is the incantation, but unlike so many other spells, curses and," he turned to look at the class, "_tricks_, you cannot simply say the spell and hope for the best. Even _thinking_ something other than the spell itself will not work."

Hermione quickly scribbled on her notes what the incantation was – _Scelerosempra_.

"The Scelero, or Magic-Stealing Curse, was a spell that was quickly put down by the Ministry as being a myth. Though, many would argue that it's a real spell. Had the Ministry come to terms with this being a true spell, there wouldn't only be three Unforgivables out there."

"Obviously," whispered Ron. "Stealing magic would be a serious offence."

"Exactly, Mr. Weasley!" Morrigan pointed to the redhead. He took the chalk and began writing on the board while he spoke. "Now, in order to cast this spell, you will need a flask or a vial, the blood of a witch or wizard, and mud or dirt.

"The spell at this point is rather simple. More of a potion really–" He was writing the steps on the board.

_**1. Make sure that the dirt/mud is on the ground.**_

_**2. Drop the blood straight from the witch/wizard to the dirt (if using a wand. If the preference is a knife, straight from the knife).**_

_**3. Collect the blood and the dirt into a flask/vial.**_

_**4. Shaking it in a clockwise motion, say the incantation, Scelerosempra.**_

_**5. The potion should turn BLACK.**_

_**6. Drink the potion. (This action does not have to be right after.)**_

"And that, is how you use the spell." He turned around to look at the class. Hermione was making sure to get every single detail. Beside her, Malfoy continued to write lazily. "Those of you who know anything about certain Muggle magic, will know that their spells tend to contain many steps, as well as a lack of wand. There are those who find using a staff more effective.

"Unfortunately," continued Morrigan, "there were some side effects on both sides. For the user, the more they perform these six steps, the darker their blood will become. For the victim, well – they will suffer a very, _very_ painful death.

"I doubt anyone has used this spell in years. Centuries in fact. So I believe many of you owe another fair amount of people an apology. But enough of these depressing thoughts. Why don't we go onto some duelling tactics..."

**...***...! #$%^&*()_+...***...**

"Well, that was err...interesting."

"Yes. And you couldn't stop fidgeting in your seat the whole time. What was that about anyway?"

"Oh nothing." Malfoy mumbled something under his breath that sounded suspiciously like, "Just waiting for you to punch me in the nose again."

Hermione rolled her eyes. Class just ended and everyone was packing up. She furrowed her brows. "Why do you keep sitting beside me?"

Malfoy didn't answer for a moment. "I dunno. Starting a habit, I suppose?" He turned to look at her now. "You don't mind, do you?"

Hermione blinked. "Yes, I..._did_, but now...it's better than sitting alone," she murmured the last bit.

"Good," said Malfoy, slinging his bag over his shoulder and leaned in to whisper in her ear. "Because I'm not changing where I sit anytime soon." That's when he turned on his heel and left the classroom, leaving a frozen Hermione behind.

**A/N: Wow. This is getting obvious. **

**Not really. Maybe. Who knows? Wait for it...**

**You didn't miss anything. A lot of this chapter is me bending the truth. ;P**

**Oh dear. Another "Sempra" curse. Well, the translation, I believe, is "always" while "Scelero" is "to pollute with guilt, with blood, etc." so...**

**The idea of the spell came to me while I was on a bike ride, and you can kind of see were this goes... P:**

**Because of the lack of Dramione (until the end) here, I'll be working EXTRA HARD to get the next chapter on as soon as possible! And the next DOES have Dramione, I checked.**

The **13****th** Chapter is called _"__Not Ready to Make Nice__"_ (by Dixie Chicks) and the song quote is:

"_Forgive? _

_Sounds good. _

_Forget...I'm not sure I could. _

_They say, time heals everything, _

_But I'm still waiting. _

_I'm through, _

_With doubt, _

_There' s nothing left for me to figure out. _

_I've paid a price, _

_And I'll keep paying..."_


	15. Chapter 14: Not Ready to Make Nice

**A/N: Eeep! It's been a while. Sorry 'bout that! :( I actually didn't have a lot of time to work on this lately...and this chapter wasn't really working out.**

**I hate this chapter btw. A lot.**

**Did you guys notice at the end of the last chapter I wrote down "the 13th Chapter is called 'Not Ready to Make Nice'"? It's actually the 14th Chapter.**

**Well, there's some Draco/Hermione moments here, plus – we learn a little more about this "Morlus Riddle" character. Draco's probably sounds OOC. I apologize if it sounds that way.**

**Don't ask about the boulder. It's an old thing I came up with that would've worked well when I was first beginning this story. Now though, it's not a really big part. Just a filler.**

**I know a lot of you are confused about certain events...or the whole story. There will be answers, I promise you that. Just not right now.**

**Disclaimer: Harry Potter is owned by JK Rowling and the song _"Not Ready to Make Nice"_ is by Dixie Chicks. All I own is the (ADDED) plot and the OCs.**

_**Not Ready to Make Nice**_

**...***...**

**Chapter 14**

"_Forgive? _

_Sounds good. _

_Forget...I'm not sure I could. _

_They say, time heals everything, _

_But I'm still waiting. _

_I'm through, _

_With doubt, _

_There' s nothing left for me to figure out. _

_I've paid a price, _

_And I'll keep paying..."_

_-__Not Ready to Make Nice,_ _**Dixie Chicks**_

Hermione, once she got out of the castle, raced down toward the Black Lake. Her hair flew in the makeshift wind and she came to a halt right beside a large boulder. She needed that. To run. To be free. To stop thinking about everything. She wasn't sure why it was such a good idea, but...all of this...it was so confusing.

Hermione herself wasn't quite sure _what_ to think. Was it just because of that story? If so, she definitely wasn't ready to forgive and forget. Things like this, especially after last year, (and this year, the Dark Lord seemed to have taken up some sort of profession for Hide and Seek,) the subject definitely was something far more serious than tripping someone on a playground.

Another thing was that it was immediately _after_ Morrigan told the class that story. There was no evidence that it was true, though. Until someone could give her something that even _remotely_ stated that what the Professor spoke about was truth, nothing in her mind would be changing.

She hadn't gotten any apologies from anyone yet. Not that she was expecting any. The ones he referred to weren't exactly the _'apologetic'_ type.

Hermione sat down on the boulder. Some odd force calmed her, which was an odd sensation at the moment. Hadn't she just been a little stressed about whether or not she should forgive Parkinson and the rest of the Slytherins or not? Relaxed (but slightly confused), Hermione began picking up a pile of rocks and throwing them at the lake. She wasn't really one for _skipping_ stones – but throwing them at the water seemed just as entertaining.

Not really. But she had to do _something_. The calmness of the water and the boulder unnerved her.

After about five stones thrown, she began counting. _Six...seven...eight...ten..._ She stopped mid-throw. Ten? What...?

She just realized at that moment that someone had decided to join her. For she never remembered throwing that ninth stone, but she did remember _clearly_ noticing it fly and skip over the water. She _also_ didn't remember her Arithmancy skills going so low that she couldn't quite count properly.

There went another stone. She counted the amount of times it skipped across the water. _Five. Better than I would've ever done_. She didn't turn. Calm...

"Careful, Granger. The rock's charmed," said a drawling voice behind her. She frowned, turning her head slightly in Malfoy's direction. She was surprised by the dreamy tone of her voice.

"Who in their right mind would charm a boulder? Or rock, whatever..." The calmness of the world (or the Black Lake, she wasn't sure) was beginning to catch up to her. She tried to fight it, but the more she tried to be confused, angry, frustrated or...anxious again, she became even more calm. Hermione doubted she'd ever get those emotions again.

He shrugged, not really answering. "I see it affects you."

"What?" asked Hermione. "How does it affect me?"

"Well...you look like you've been high off of a Calming Draught, and you sound like Lo...Luna. But, err, not as...loony."

Hermione barely registered that. She felt so relaxed, trying to fight off whatever this force (or spell) was, but now she felt like she was going to drift off to sleep, and that would be quite unpleasant.

Noticing her in this state, Malfoy rolled his eyes. He chucked the stone in his hand into the lake (noticing it skip a few times), went over and pulled the girl (not too rough, but not exactly gentle either) off of the giant rock. Immediately, Hermione was able to come back to her senses, the feeling of relaxation leaving her body and replaced with slight confusion, but not quite what she felt at first either. It felt...good.

Fine. Fine, she should say. Good may have been pushing it. Malfoy's hands were still gripping at her upper arms, his eyes looking at the boulder. A ghost of the feeling she had in DADA class that day came back, even through the robes she was wearing. His eyes shifted toward her for a second, then at his hands, when he abruptly let go. There was an unnamed expression on his face that Hermione couldn't quite place.

"How are you feeling?" asked Malfoy, nonchalantly, as if nothing happened.

"Fine. Better. Good. Yeah," said Hermione, still not exactly sure _what_ she was feeling. Malfoy furrowed his brows, but he looked amused.

"Right. That," he pointed at the rock, "is, as I said, charmed. Been working on something to balance emotions, but it still hasn't worked out quite right."

"Balance emotions?"

"Yeah. So, if you go to it feeling, I dunno...sad, melancholy or something along those depressing lines, you'll start to feel happy when you sit on it. Happy emotions turn sad, angry or stressed to calm, you get the picture."

Hermione nodded. That would explain much. But... "Why would you want to do that?"

"Well, the after effects are what you're looking for. You sit on it with one emotion, then feel the other, and somehow the two emotions cancel each other out. The problem with what I'm doing though, is that it seems I can't sit on it for any less than five minutes. The feeling's a little...addictive. Not necessarily the best spot to be hanging around until I get that fixed.

"But the rest of the shoreline's a good place to think," he added after a few seconds, walking past Hermione to go sit on the ground past the boulder, nearer the lake. He took a stone from the ground threw it, this time making six skips. Hermione stood in the same spot, not sure what to do just then.

Malfoy turned, an odd expression on his face, but his eyes didn't meet hers. "Look, I...I need to apologize," he started, awkwardly.

Hermione's head turned quickly. _Was he really...?_

After a long moment, his eyes finally went up to look straight into hers. Upon seeing her frown, he gave one of his own. "Oi, it was going to happen at some point or another, may as well be now." Hermione's face relaxed a bit, as well as Malfoy's.

"I'm sorry...for everything. It was wrong, you're no lower than us...we're all..." he paused a moment, his eyebrows furrowing as if he were trying to figure out how to say something. "We're all...on the same boat? Or is it plane?" Hermione couldn't help the smile that formed on her face at his effort for using a Muggle expression.

She nodded. "I think it's boat."

"Good. Because I wasn't going to try again if it wasn't. So...we're all on the same boat. You're no better, but I'm not either. And...I wouldn't take you as someone who would steal things, let alone magic." Hermione had some sort of sheepish expression on her face, that made Malfoy blink.

Thinking he'd gotten the wrong idea, Hermione quickly began to explain. "No, it's not that! I mean...I've stolen Harry's Invisibility Cloak a few times..."

"Let me guess – to go to the library after hours," he said, smirking. Hermione glared at him for a second, but continued.

"Fine. Yes to that, and other things...but that's not important!" His smirk widened, but it quickly turned serious, the smirk disappearing. Hermione swore she saw that glint of green in his eyes again, but it was gone too quickly to be sure.

There was something else in there too. No, it wasn't what people would guess when you look at someone like that. It was like...he was fighting something. Not fighting to _do_ something (to her anyway), but there was a sort of internal struggle in there. It was evident that it had nothing to do with her, but he was letting his guard down for her. She never saw him as someone who would do that.

Another moment passed, and his wall fell completely for a second, and she knew – she knew that whatever was in his head, it was dangerous.

He cleared his throat, bringing Hermione back to reality. She tried to look everywhere but at him. "I um...I have go," she stated, pushing past him back toward the school. When she turned to look back at him, she was a little confused by the disappointed twist in her stomach.

He did not look back to watch her leave.

**...***...! #$%^&*()_+...***...**

It was Saturday. Hermione was walking with Harry toward the Great Hall for breakfast. They were in an amiable silence, neither one deciding to make a conversation to ruin the moment.

Ron, Ginny and Foster were all probably in the Great Hall already. Hermione frowned at the thought of Foster. She was still a little suspicious of her, for reasons quite unknown, but Hermione felt an odd aura around her. No, it wasn't the fact that she was _Head Girl_, or in _Ravenclaw_ even though she should be in _Slytherin_...it probably had something to do with Ron, she was sure of it.

Speaking of Ravenclaw...

"Hey Harry," began Hermione. Harry glanced over at his best friend, raisin an eyebrow. Hermione continued, hoping he wouldn't care to ask where the information came from. "You know about your upcoming Quidditch match against Ravenclaw?"

He nodded slowly, wondering where this was going. "Yeah..."

"Well, a..._friend_, of a _friend_...of a friend of mine, told me that Ravenclaw has a new Seeker."

"Um...yeah. Obviously. I mean, it isn't like Cho is, oh I dunno...a whole _year_ older than me. Naw, it's not like that at all..." replied Harry, sarcastically. Hermione rolled her eyes.

"Well, that, err..._friend_," (this was weird referring to Malfoy as a friend) "told me that he or she is really good, and you should watch your back."

"Who was this friend?"

"Malfoy." She never meant for that to slip out, but he was going to find out sooner or later, so what the hell?

Harry looked at her dumbstruck for a couple of seconds. "So...who's he friends with?"

"No one. Just trying to keep it distant."

"Hermione – how do you know this isn't one of his stupid pranks? He's been acting oddly, _again_, this year...you don't know what could be up his sleeve anymore...literally..."

"Well, it _was_ a simple warning. I'm not saying to listen to him or anything," replied Hermione, keeping her voice calm and trying to convince herself that she absolutely did _NOT_ trust Malfoy, "but maybe you should still be careful."

"Hermione, when am I not?" Hermione opened her mouth— "Don't answer that."

Harry suddenly stopped in his tracks. Hermione did too, but looked puzzled for a moment until she heard voices down the corridor. She quickly followed Harry when he began to check out what it was. Hermione wasn't quite sure who was talking, nor _what_ they were talking about, but when they got closer, she put a hand over her mouth in an attempt to stop them from hearing her.

They were in an abandoned hallway. Harry and Hermione moved to have a clear view, while still being able to hear their conversation.

"The Dark Lord has been oddly quiet, Morrigan."

"And...?"

"I have a feeling it has something to do with you and your...influence."

"Don't be ridiculous, _Severus_. I have no influence, _Fox_ has influence."

It was Snape and Morrigan. They were talking, but it seemed like they didn't want anyone to hear. _If only Harry could find his invisibility cloak..._

"_Fox_, has no influence. You know that."

"Fine then. _Morlus_ has influence. What do you remember of him?"

There was a quick "hmph" from Snape before he continued. "I remember how stubborn he was. The amount of detentions I would give him and points taken from Ravenclaw for not doing a _single_ essay assigned. He wouldn't stop his incessant daydreaming during my class, the doodling in his little notebook, nor his attitude when speaking to me. I very nearly asked Flitwick why he hadn't expelled him yet."

"He was smart, Severus. A true strategist, inventor...fortuneteller."

"Riddle had his own way of thinking, yes. But you missed one thing – he's a _cheater_."

"Don't be so quick to accuse him of such things. _Cheating_, as you say, is a relevant term, _only_ when one is caught in the act. Otherwise, it may be viewed as _intelligence_. Don't you agree?"

Snape looked at him oddly before changing point. "At least he didn't speak up during my class. He still managed to do all of his exams. It is almost like he paid attention.

"He wasn't too good with magic for the first few years. Serves him right for not paying attention. It was around his fourth year when he began to...gain more magic ability. Suspicious...is it not?"

Morrigan let go a sarcastic laugh. "You say that as if he'll never hear your words. Say what you will now, Sev, but he'll hear it. Sometimes I think _he_ was the one worthy of the Dark Lord's title. 'He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named' must be so proud."

"Absolutely not. Morlus was named a traitor in the Dark Lord's inner circle last year. You know what happened, Morrigan. You've _heard stories_." The way Snape said the last bit put Hermione on edge. There was something about it that didn't quite fit.

"Of course, Sev—"

"Stop calling me that!"

"Fine, Sev. I'll try not to, Sev." Upon seeing the glare that Snape gave him, he cleared his throat. "But in all seriousness – you know well enough about him. Even more so, you heard about his greatest discovery?"

"Yes, he stole his father's ring many years ago and chipped a piece of the Resurrection Stone off to put into his wand." Hermione furrowed her _eyebrows. Huh? Why would you do __that? What good would that do...?_

"Ah, yes, his Resurrection Spell, as he put it. _Recro Iterum_, the official incantation. A very interesting piece of magic, complicated too. One would need a wand that has an infusion of the Resurrection Stone itself in it, while being the owner of that wand, or perhaps being Master of the Elder Wand. I'm not quite sure, I will be looking it up."

Snape raised his eyebrows for reasons unknown. "I shall make a wager that Riddle has the ability to cast it?"

"Of course." Morrigan frowned, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world and he just wasted his voice on two easy words.

"And would you happen to know anyone else?"

Morrigan paused. Then he continued. "If my suspicions are correct, I would guess that another would be Harry Potter."

**A/N: I totally get it if you don't understand the chapter, or hate it altogether. I'm with you. It's not my best.**

**Huh. I think I've heard someone say once before, "We're all on the same plane," but it may have been page. Either way, both boat and plane are ways of transportation for multiple people, and does anyone really expect Draco to get a Muggle expression on the first try?**

"**Cheating is the relevant term only when one is caught in the act. Otherwise, it is viewed as intelligence...no?" _-HK-47, Knights of the Old Republic (I can't remember if it's KotOR I or II...either way, owned by LucasArts, possibly Obsidian and Bioware. One or both.)_**

**Ah ha. Cliffhanger. I'm evil. It's been a while, I'll work on the next one.**

**Looked over the 15th chapter. You're all going to hate me. It'll get better and things will clear up! Later! Maybe not yet. But later!**

The **15th** Chapter is called "_The Lazy Song_" (by Bruno Mars) and the song quote is:

"_I'm gonna kick my feet up, _

_Then stare at the fan, _

_Turn the TV on, _

_Throw my hand in my pants, _

_Nobody's gonna tell me I can't._

_I'll be lounging on the couch, _

_Just chillin' in my snuggie, _

_Click to MTV, _

_So they can teach me how to dougie, _

_'Cause in my castle I'm the freaking man..."_


End file.
